Search and Destroy
by musicnotes093
Summary: Six months after his supposed death, Leo and a new ally track down Douglas after uncovering the inventor's destructive new plan. Meanwhile, the Davenport family continues to adjust to a life after loss. But when a mysterious activity comes up, a game soon ensues, leading both sides to unknowingly head into a path of collision. Sequel to Trial and Error.
1. One

**Title:** _"__Search and Destroy"_

**Rating:** T

**Genre:** Adventure, Drama

**Character(s):** still the Lab Rats gang, with a few familiar faces and a handful of OCs

**Pairing(s):** Donald/Tasha, Adam/OC, Leo/Kerry and hints of Chase/OC

**Summary:** Six months after his supposed death, Leo and a new ally track down Douglas after uncovering the inventor's destructive new plan. Meanwhile, the Davenport family continues to adjust to a life after loss. But when a mysterious activity comes up, a game soon ensues, leading both sides to unknowingly head into a path of collision.

**Notes:** Second story in the series! Unlike the preceding story, this one will be much shorter. I hope. Still part of a personal challenge, so I hope I'd do good. :) As far as warnings, I don't think there needs to be one. Just flares of angst here and there; nothing too major.

Just to be clear, the title's more of a reference to a computer program as opposed to the military tactic. The reason for that will be more evident as we go along.

Like in the first story, a number of chapters in this had been written months in advance (started around the first week of May, I think). Also, like the first, the events in Season Three never happened in this universe, so I guess you can say this is AR-ish.

Enjoy!

* * *

_One._

"_This is interesting, too: Davenport Industries had recently released its own home security system, and a lot of consumers are rating it really high. According to the customer feedbacks, the quality is very satisfactory, the service is great—and a lot of people are surprised, get this, with how uncostly it is. Imagine that!"_

_ "Wow!"_

_ "Yeah. For a successful tech company, I personally wouldn't've pegged Davenport Industries to do something like this. I mean, usually, when we talk about Donald Davenport and, you know, what new products his company comes up with, it's usually some state of the art inventions. Home security system sounds like a step outside the box to me. In a good way! In a good way! It's more practical and really customer-oriented." _

_ "I agree. Although, it does make me wonder if this is at all any indication that the company is suffering in its usual field, that's why it's branching out in something different."_

_ "No, I don't think so. The label still sells like hotcakes worldwide. Yeah, no. I don't think decline in sales is the reason, Jenna."_

_ "Oh."_

_ "Well, actually, there's a lot of speculation that the main reason for the development of this product is that horrible incident that the Davenports experienced a little more than six months ago." _

Consuela Villar reached upwards to the television situated at a ledge not too high overhead as a cold hush fell over the audience of the talk show she was watching. Stepping forward, her small frame was engulfed by the less tense North Carolinian afternoon sunshine which flooded through the open balcony and many windows of her diminutive but rather warm dine-in. Her wrinkled fingers expertly located the notch for the volume, turning it three clicks clockwise, before stepping back to get a view of the screen again.

With a work-worn hand perched softly on her hips, big, honest deep brown eyes ahead, and the other hand sympathetically pulling at her mouth, she watched and listened.

"_Mm. I forgot about that." _

_ "Poor man. And, you know, I've actually had the chance to meet Donald Davenport in person, and I think I've gotten the chance to meet his wife, too. It was at a charity event, I think. Great people. He seems very happy with his family life, with those four beautiful kids. Just untimely. His stepson died before his son graduated high school."_

_ "I…Mm. I can't imagine going through something like that. I just don't know how I could do it if I lose any of my kids."_

_ "Were the two of them close?" _

_ "Yeah. Family and friends say that the family is pretty close. I know it's something you don't see too often, especially since he and his stepson had only known each other for about two, three years, but—yeah, they were." _

_ "How old was the boy?"_

_ "He just turned sixteen when it happened."_

_ "Oh, wow. Still very young."_

_ "But you know, I think Donald has shown strength in character at a time like this. There he was, faced with a terrible, _terrible_ tragedy, and he turns that into something helpful. He turns it into something that others can use so the chances of them losing someone they love because of some senseless reason like he had is lessened. Isn't that wonderful?"_

Loud and hearty applause lightly blasted from the dust-and-oil encrusted speakers of the television.

Consuela breathed out in approval, the pad of her hand traveling from her mouth to her sternum, right on her heart, while her bottom lip jutted up in an expression of agreement.

The lithe sound of metal against glass snapped her concentration out of her favorite program. She swiveled around alertly. Her eyes gradually adjusted from the sight of the five perfectly sculptured women on the television to the rather rough but familiar features of a young man she considered as her friend. She smiled. "Frankie," she said, glancing at the laptop he deposited on top of the counter.

"Lo siento, Mrs. Villar," the boy laughed kindly as he scratched the back of his head. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to tell you that I've finished with your laptop."

"It will take more than that to scare me, mi hijo," Consuela said as she transferred the computer closer to the cash register. "And what did I say about calling me Mrs. Villar, huh?"

The boy called Frankie smiled, his thick mustache and sprout of goatee shifting along with his lips. "That Mrs. Villar is your mother-in-law so don't call you that," he repeated the curt speech the older woman always gave him.

Consuela waved a finger. "Exactly," she said. She punched in a few numbers at the register, the machine adding mechanical screeches while it slowly spat out a sheet of paper. "It's either Abuela or Ms. Consuela."

"Okay."

After finishing her work with the machine, Consuela drew out a white plastic bag containing two filled Styrofoam containers from underneath the desk.

"So what is the talk about today?"

Consuela lifted her eyes up to the boy whose own dark brown orbs underneath his formidably thick brows focused on the droning television above. She smiled. "Oh, you know. Everything," she said as she punched the larger green button on the register. It dinged and swiftly slid open. She deposited a twenty dollar bill from her pocket. "They just got finished talking about that poor businessman. Donald Davenport? Davenport Industries? He has a small facility thirty minutes off the island. I think Sammy's applied for a job there last month."

The boy nodded thoughtfully. "Oh. Oh, yeah, I think I've heard of it," he mumbled.

"They're just saying how he's selling some security system and how they think he did it because of what happened to his kid." Consuela sighed, shaking her head. "That poor man. And that poor boy. Only sixteen. My Sammy is only a year older than him, can you imagine that?"

"Hm," he said distantly.

Consuela supposed it was an indication of shared sympathy towards the rather faraway subject. Or, perhaps, an effect of the viral disinterest many seemed to have towards items seen and heard from popular gossip shows. Either way was acceptable. She soon resorted into tying the handles of the plastic bag into the same professional knot that allowed her more regular customers to untie it easily at a later time. "What's wrong with my computer this time around?" she asked.

Frankie easily snapped back from the screen to the woman in front of him. "Oh, not much," he said. "Your hard drive is just overcrowded, so I erased a few unnecessary things."

"You didn't remove Sammy's little user folder or whatever in the world it is, did you? 'Cause he specifically told me not to touch that. He said he has many school things in there, and I think his résumé is in there, too."

He grinned, though it was somewhat grim. "No, ma'am," he said. "I did go through his saved files, just to make sure. There were a lot that had viruses and malwares in them, so I installed a program that took care of that."

Consuela frowned. "You didn't have to pay for anything, did you?"

"No. Actually, the antivirus program I installed was something I kind of created myself. But don't worry! You can always ask Sammy to delete it from your computer if you feel uncomfortable with it. I promise, I'm not using it to spy or anything. I just thought it's something you can use. It's really harmless. I hope that's okay."

Consuela thought about it. "Well, I guess it's better than having to pay for one," she said. "And you said Sammy can erase it whenever?"

He nodded.

Consuela's eyebrows quirked. A smirk tugged at her lips. "You probably should have made sure he couldn't erase it, then," she said. "That boy. I think my laptop started messing up when he started downloading his movies."

He smiled, biting back a rather unpleasant remark towards the unknowing woman's grandson due to the very inappropriate 'movies' downloaded onto the laptop could get his grandmother arrested for a malicious crime.

Consuela pushed over the white plastic bag across the counter. "Here. Ropa vieja for you, picadillo for your cousin."

"Oh. Wow. Gracias, Mrs., uh, Consuela," the boy said as he gratefully examined the bag. "How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing, that's how much," she said. She watched him with amusement as he picked up the lunches, verily occupied and seemingly confounded by it. Her left hand found her hip once more. "How's your cousin, by the way?"

"Bien," he said, savoring the thick and inviting aroma of the freshly cooked food.

Consuela nodded. "Too bad you have to leave after the wedding," she commented. "You can have a nice life here in the islands, you know. You're always welcome to apply for a job here in our restaurant. Armando and I will give you one. Or, if not, you can apply at that Davenport Industries place. You're really good at computers; they'll probably hire you.

"Plus, Hatteras is a beautiful place to raise a family," Consuela added. "You told me you're twenty-three. Aren't you looking to settle down soon? Like your cousin? You know, my niece, Vanessa, she's coming to town next week, and she'll probably be interested in a good young man like you." Her features then twisted as her motive shifted from persuasion to scrutiny. "But I think we have to do something about all of that first," she said, gesturing widely to his face.

Her guest's eyebrows wrinkled and raised consecutively. "What's wrong with it?"

"Mi hijo, I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but all that facial hair—" she shook her head. "You need a razor or at least a butter knife. Maybe a lawn mower."

A customer eavesdropping at a nearby booth choked on the lukewarm fajitas he was pretending to eat.

Frankie glanced back at the customer and then looked back to Consuela.

Consuela smiled apologetically. "Sorry, corazón," she said.

Frankie shook his head, ridding himself of the unnecessary embarrassment. "It's…fine," he said. He picked up the bags from the counter then turned to leave. "Thank you for these, Ms. Consuela."

Consuela gently grasped one of his hands, causing him to halt. She smiled warmly. "Please, mi hijo," she said. "I seriously do hope you think about what I said."

The young man opened his mouth to say something but ended up resorting into a smile that mimicked the older woman who he, too, considered as his friend. "Will do," he said. Consuela let go of his hand, and it gave him the freedom to take his leave.

Moderate September warmth welcomed the young man into its arms as he exited the humble restaurant. With a brief wave to a trio of local customers traversing the almost non-existent parking lot, he mounted his bike and then set off towards the road that had become so familiar to him. Route in mind, he pedaled, the smooth sound of the chains and the wheels falling into a very familiar rhyme during the twenty-minute travel. Occasionally, a soft breeze would slightly push against his back, providing a cool current that he appreciated riding in.

With the sun lightly beating against his skin, his mind automatically enumerated the precautionary measures of riding a bicycle through a busy and somewhat dangerously narrow passage.

After losing sense of time through the course of sand-riddled pavements, he finally turned into a street he knew well. Passing by an ice-cream-place-slash-put-put-course and a shabby seafood restaurant known for its late happy hours and karaoke nights (which had admittedly gotten rather annoying several times over), he arrived at the conglomeration of trees that lined near the street. The lone green mailbox and the nearly full trash can served as buoys that marked the break in the greeneries and thus the entrance to his destination.

The incline of the driveway required a bit more work from him, but practice rendered it somehow easier. Getting off, he wheeled his bike past the sizeable black jeep sitting in the wide driveway and parked it inside the garage, careful not to tilt the bag of food clasped in his hand. He then unlocked the door into the house, closed the garage door, and then came inside.

He placed the food beside the microwave. He proceeded to the bathroom after scratching underneath his fake left brow. There, he flipped the lights on before looking at his rather rugged and unrecognizable face in the mirror. He counted to three to mentally prepare himself for the stinging pain that he knew would come about from his next action.

Then, carefully and with a muffled hiss, he peeled off the fake brows, the fake mustache, the fake beard and finally, the fake goatee.

He washed his face immediately to rid of the glue, as he had many times before, the cold water from the faucet proving to be refreshing. When he finished, he dried his face with a towel waiting nearby, and then looked again in the mirror to check if he had really washed off all of the residue from the adhesive.

It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust, from beholding the sight of the twenty-three year-old, Panama-born Francisco 'Frankie' Vasquez, who was always visiting for his cousin's wedding in every state he found himself in, to the sight of just him, Leo Dooley. The contrast wasn't as stark or as dramatic—to him, at least—as the only things that changed his appearance were the fake facial hair that was purchased five months ago as a precautionary measure. But if he was to compare how he looked physically now to how he looked before he left his family, he could point out several noticeable differences.

His height, for one, had been threatening to rival Adam's. Once his growth spurt kicked into full throttle, all he had done was grow. Unfortunately and much to his chagrin, his voice changed, too, and he wasn't too sure he liked that. Given, before he left San Francisco, its inevitability was apparent; Bree and Chase had teased him once when his voice cracked while he was giving a presentation in Physics class. Lately, it just seemed more final.

A weak smirk pulled on Leo's lips. Though he knew they would have teased him all the way through the process, he wished he could have been with his family as he slowly transformed in that half a year.

_Or maybe not_, he thought as he caught sight of his hair. Due to a mistake a nervous newbie barber made before they left Atlanta the month and a half prior, he ended up with a wild but rather unique slight undercut as a haircut. He hated it, especially since at first glance it appeared very vaguely of a Mohawk, but Torrance said that it matured him from sixteen to eighteen which, he guessed, made it borderline tolerable.

He wasn't too sure his mother would approve of it if she saw it, though.

Leo laughed when an image of his mother chasing him with hair clippers on her hand popped up in his head. He turned off the lights in the bathroom then happily trekked upstairs in search for his one and only companion. Finding the second floor empty, he continued on the third floor of the house.

The bright afternoon sunshine flooded more freely through the windows and sliding doors at the highest level of their temporary residence. The emptiness was more apparent, but he did notice a sticky note pinned squarely in the middle of the metallic fridge at the main kitchen.

_ Leaving for New York early tomorrow morning, 2:30 AM._

_ Please have your things ready by then._

_ - Torrance_

Leo stared at it, somehow dismayed. He admitted his gloomy mood was partly his fault; Torrance had warned him against forming any friendship with anyone they meet during their travel, but he still let it happen anyways. Their three week stay at the islands had been the longest they have stayed anywhere, and even that short period of time sufficed for him to cross paths with the Villars, the elderly Spanish couple that owned the restaurant he and Torrance dined in one afternoon. He guessed his affinity to them had something to do with their natural warmth. Likely, his craving for affection from parents, which both unknowingly filled, was a cause, too.

Now he had to leave them.

Yet, he knew it was necessary. Something bigger was at stake, and as his stepfather had taught him a long time ago, as with many urgent missions, emotions had to be cast aside for the mean time and logic had to take reign.

Presently, logic evinced that his family's safety was imperative.

Leo plucked the yellow note out of the clip before making one last attempt to find its writer. He headed out to the balcony, the salty ocean breeze rushing past him when he opened the door. Halfway through scanning the poolside, he spotted a lone figure perched at the edge of the final landing that led to their personal piece of the beach.

Torrance possessed a small but quite fit frame. Her posture was similar to her character: poised, dignified and certain. Even while preoccupied with the laptop on her lap, she didn't slouch. She never had, not as far as Leo remembered. He supposed that was the reason why it was not very hard to accept the fact that she was smart and frank, which was contrary to his first prejudgment at the masquerade that she was cunning and dishonest.

Her features were captivating, too. With the mask off and in closer proximity, he discovered that her kindly eyes were actually the hue of pale emeralds. Occasionally, when she's surrounded with too much light or at times with too much darkness, her eyes would appear blue, like the sky during summertime. Her long, golden locks of hair, which swayed with the soft stream of the wind, only worked to improve her proportionate features.

Pondering over these, Leo easily understood why other boys were easily attracted to her, especially on those rare times where she genuinely smiles. Whenever she would smile, no matter how small it was, it becomes a task for him as her self-appointed protector and best friend to ward off the oncoming admirers, each and every time varying in strength of approach.

It was almost too hard to believe that she was the same girl who helped him fake his death.

Leo opened his mouth to call to her but thought the better of it when he observed the speed of her fingers across the keyboard and the complete abandon of awareness to her surroundings. She was busy, and he was almost absolute that it was to contribute to their search, so he didn't bother her.

Instead, he walked back to the spacious bedroom that had been his for weeks.

His first inclination was to take a shower. It was one of those luxuries that fled them at times as they skip from city to city, from state to state. Torrance had been very skilled in finding shelter for the both of them (a perk, she had told him, that came from being well-connected and having many people owe her) but having the perfect living conditions wasn't always on the table. He could count those times when they had to wait two or three days before getting to a place with well-watered bathrooms, and this had led him to appreciate the importance of seizing the opportunities of taking a bath when he could.

However, his exhaustion curtailed his travel, his feet taking him instead to his bed.

With a clear mind, he sat down on it.

Then, he allowed his body to fall backwards, and for a moment he remembered the rainy night at the park.

He closed his eyes, the impact of the events from six months ago hitting him full on from the recesses of darkness.

Everything happened in rapid succession, starting from the night he discovered the sea shell at his desk. He sat a long while pondering over the clues that didn't fall into place: the numbers on the mirror, the bouquet of funeral flowers, her recent gift and the sunflower seeds that cluttered his desk after he shook it. _There is a certain sequence in nature, Leo Dooley. You will find me within it._

Then, it came to him.

The Fibonacci sequence.

Yet it didn't make sense. Although a few of those numbers fell into that sequence, the rest did not.

_If you look hard enough._

Obviously, he couldn't check the numbers on the mirror. He had long erased it to withhold what he perceived was a vital piece of information from his family since he feared that night that it could get them into more trouble. Adam had long tossed away the bouquet due to his anger. So, he resorted to the only available piece he had, which was the seashell.

Upon closer inspection, he discovered that it came from Fresno.

He wrote down the numbers in a piece of paper as he remembered them and stared at it. He had long eliminated options like phone numbers, coordinates and IP addresses. Performing any mathematical operations on it just sounded like an asinine idea. Still, he decided to revisit his earlier options to make sure he didn't miss anything.

Forcing the numbers to be coordinates or an IP address was a hopeless and draining task. It led him to different places that did not make sense.

Ten minutes into figuring out whether it was a phone number, an inquiry came to him regarding the numbers: what if they were the _placements_ in the sequence rather than the numbers included _in_ it? He wrote the new numbers down on the paper and arrived at what looked like a phone number that excessed one digit.

One long glance at the seashell from Fresno, and he was off to his desktop to check area codes.

When his suspicions were reaffirmed, he shifted a piece of the sequence and ended up staring at a phone number, complete with the US and city area codes.

One, One, Two. Eleven, Nine. Four, Seven, Five. Ten, Nine.

First, first, second. Eleventh. (Nine.) Fourth, seventh, fifth. Tenth, ninth.

001-559-283-3421.

After cautiously dialing the number into his phone, it rang twice. Someone picked up, but no one spoke, so he initiated. _Hello?_

_Leo Dooley. You figured it out._

There were many things he wanted to say, but he chose instead to be succinct—and rightly so. _I did._

_I knew you would._

_ You're the girl from the party. Aren't you?_

She didn't say anything, but he could almost see her smiling. _Have you figured out who sent the letter?_

_ Yeah._

_ And you know why he sent it?_

_ Somewhat. _

Silence. Then, _You have to die tomorrow night, Leo Dooley._

He was inclined to protest against it, but after fully comprehending how the letter had affected and endangered his family, he refused to.

_In the mechanical pencil in your desk drawer, there is a white pill stuck where the eraser should be. Tomorrow night, when he meets you and when you find the proper time, bite on it,_ she said. _Wherever you wake up Monday morning, there will be a gray jacket which you should take. Inside it will be a paper that will tell you your options of what you can do next._

He brooded over the information she imparted to him, especially the part of him staging his death. _How do I even know if I can trust you?_

_You don't,_ she said. _But, if you see the bigger picture as I do, you'll understand that this is the best option you have._

He narrowed his eyes then. _What_ do _you know?_

_That you can save them,_ she said. _As far as why, the reason will have to come in time._

_You're never going to answer my other questions, are you? Like who you are or why're you doing this?_

_ Do the answers to those really matter at this moment?,_ she had asked good-naturedly.

He didn't answer.

_Do pack a modest amount of clothes and bring it with you wherever you will meet him. Leave it at the closest bus stop. I will keep it for you until you can get to it,_ she instructed. _Please bring your phone and your wallet as well. Good night, Leo Dooley._

A click, and then she was gone.

He stayed up all night, weighing the decision along with several factors that tipped the scale. He didn't want to leave his family, not in the manner that he anticipated he would. He had to break their hearts. That was too cruel, especially to his mother, but it was either he stay with them and continue to put their lives on hold and in danger or he goes, to somewhere far away while his parents and his siblings move on in safety.

In the end, with a heavy heart, he decided to pack and walk away from the life he had known.

The void that this decision left in him lasted through a good part of the following night, the emptiness jabbing harder when he came face to face with his step uncle, who he figured was behind the letter. Save for a few things, he couldn't recall much of the conversation now, but the moment when he drew out the tranquilizer came with clarity. It was that moment that he found to be the right time. When he fired the syringes, he recklessly bit hard on the pill.

A very distinct and sickeningly strong bitter taste dispersed in his mouth. It quickly shot down to his throat, and soon his air passages closed. He violently grasped for air, intensely tried to expel the burning sensation in his mouth, but it was to no avail. For a desperate moment, he regretted listening to a complete stranger. He thought about his family, how he had stupidly abandoned them, but before he could do anything else, darkness swallowed him up.

He found himself in a dark, cold and enclosed space when he woke up the next morning. He was so confused and afraid that he panicked. He tried to stretch his arms out to see how he could escape, but his palms soon connected with cold metal, the same type that was underneath his back. His mind cleared at the moment, which did a lot to restore calmness as well as necessary memory.

A morgue, he concluded. He was lying at one of the units in a morgue.

In lowering his hands down after assessing his situation, he felt a metallic canister near his right hand. Curious, he lifted it up and read what the glow in the dark stickers adhered to it said: SPRAY ME.

Before he could narrow his eyes, sounds of movement echoed in the morgue. He was about to come up with his next move should he get discovered when the door above his head swung open and then a hand drew out the unit he was in.

When the older medical examiner saw that his eyes were opened, he stared in horror. Leo stared back. The weight of the canister in his hand suddenly became heavier, more noticeable. He glanced at it. Then, he smirked. _Say cheese_, he said. He covered his nose and his mouth with his forearm before pressing down on the nozzle and spraying the stunned medical examiner with whatever was in the can (which Torrance told him later on was just a noxious and very harmless chemical).

He watched as the man staggered back, coughing, and then completely pass out.

He waited a few moments, to make sure that the medical examiner was truly out, before clumsily tumbling out of the unit he was in. He looked around for something to wear. On the coat rack, he found a baggy gray jacket. Below it was a bag of fresh clothes.

After putting on the garments, he searched the gray jacket and found a note, three sheets of paper neatly rolled up, each with a different hotel reservation and confirmation number, and tickets for Greyhound buses that headed to three different states: Oregon, Arizona and Nevada.

_Choose whichever place you find best. Leave whichever ones you don't want to go to so I will know._

_There's $350 in the box of gloves near the door. Your backpack is beside the dumpster in the back._

_Exit through the cafeteria, by the kitchen door. Make sure you remain unrecognizable._

_Will call later to establish next meeting place, Leo Dooley._

_-Torrance_

Wasting no time, he grabbed the hotel reservation and the ticket to Nevada, retrieved the cash, and then sped out through the exit she indicated.

For a whole week that followed, he spent his days in the busy city of Reno, under the feeble but effective disguises of hoodies, caps and shades. Meanwhile, as he was told later, Torrance and a friend who worked in the Mission Creek police department spent that time establishing the elaborate ruse and horrible lie that he was victimized by some heartless crime and was dead.

Leo opened his eyes and stared blankly at the ceiling. Six months had passed, and a lot had changed. He promised he would stay away as far as possible from his family and their affairs, and so far he had kept that. The last time he heard about any of them was before spring ended. He heard Chase chose to go to Stanford, while Bree began the transition to her—which was supposed to be _their_—senior year with an offer of a scholarship to a performing arts institute somewhere in Maryland.

There was also that news item earlier that afternoon, about his stepfather's latest invention.

He had avoided them or any thoughts of them so as not to develop that longing to go back home, so as not to ruin the progress he and Torrance had made, but it proved very difficult at times. There was an instance some weeks ago where an explosion at a mine trapped several workers and visitors underground in the city where he and Torrance stayed, and Adam, Bree and Chase, with his stepfather transporting them in his helicopter, came to rescue them. The ten mile proximity nearly killed him; he badly wanted to drop whatever he was doing and drive Torrance's truck to see them.

Torrance seemed to notice his struggle, so she helped—by offering to take him to an ice cream place at the opposite side of town where, afterwards, they went sight-seeing.

He was thankful to her for always being keen to offer a hand when he needed it and to offer friendship when he wanted it. Both of them seemed to have grown accustomed, too, to a kind of relationship that was similar to the one he and Bree had.

Still, his heart was sick for his home, which, he had been thinking lately, was something he may not ever come back to.

He had yet to fulfill his obligation of saving his family from the person who wished to harm them. When Torrance disclosed to him at the end of their first week of searching the generic schematics of a plan Douglas had been working on for almost a year, he had been alarmed.

Project Deflection involved three subjects, two boys and a girl, and, from what he could gather, a more powerful and inescapable form of the Triton app. Connected to that was a slew of ambitious abilities upgrades that he knew could overload his siblings' chips and could potentially end their lives.

If not, it would render them hazardous to the people they loved.

He knew what that felt like. He didn't want them to experience that.

More terrifying than that was the sole purpose of this project: elimination. Of anything and anyone standing in the way, he was sure, and he knew very well that his parents would be the first casualties it would claim.

So, he would keep on tracking down Douglas for them, even if it meant losing out. He took comfort in the wish that they were living good lives; as well as it could get, at least, after coping from the death of a loved one. He kept in mind that he was doing it for them: it was for his parents, so they could enjoy the rest of their lives together and not waste their time unnecessarily worrying about the danger that could befall their children; it was for Chase, so he could follow his dreams and not feel tethered down by obligation; it was for Bree, so she doesn't have to sacrifice what mattered to her anymore; and it was for Adam, so he could find joy in every good thing under the sun again, which, he supposed in the future, included Ayanna.

As for him, he would stand at a distance, contenting himself with thoughts of so much for them—but, sadly, very little for him.

* * *

_to be continued._


	2. Two

_Many thanks to girltech31, AlienGhostWizard14, LabGirl2001, Lady Cougar-Trombone, dreams71, labratslover, thewriterswayoflife, DisneyXDGirl, xxWasabiWarriorAlertxx, and Lab rat agent for the reviews. Thanks to those who followed and favorited, too. :)_

_I forgot to mention earlier: as new OCs are posted, links to chapter images will be posted at my profile page. Currently, Torrance Carlisle's is up._

_Fair warning for this chapter: it deals with the effects of a death of a loved one. Light allusions to bullying are in here as well._

* * *

_Two._

It was too quiet, even for a Wednesday afternoon.

It was too quiet, even with the clicks and soft thumps of the tools he used as he finished his latest project in the lab, but Donald knew that lately it had been their way of life. Although he refused to, a part of him had even grown accustomed to it. The routine was almost like clockwork now: at five-thirty in the morning, wake up; at eight-fifteen, get to work, which usually included completion of high profile inventions to help the rebuilding of his company; at five-thirty, train with his children for missions; at seven o'clock, eat dinner; at ten, if everything was dealt with, go to bed. The cycle would repeat again. He wasn't the only one who had fallen into a loop. He could see how his wife and his remaining children infinitely went through exhausted and seemingly rehearsed schedules, too.

Whether the others were aware of it or not, he did not know. He did not ask either. He was afraid that they would answer, and he would feel helpless and underqualified all over again.

He supposed that it was the best they could all have—time to themselves. The past six months had brought a formidable torrent of events to the household. Fruitless investigations, for one, were aplenty. He doubted he had ever seen or had made acquaintance with that many police officers in all those years of his life. They had been in and out, searching, questioning, establishing facts and fictions about a boy who, he was sure now, would end up as another generic case file number in their endless graveyard of cold cases. Lately, updates had downgraded from personal visits to phone calls, which he personally preferred. They may have successfully adapted from a past encounter with the FBI when it came to hiding the lab, but if the police department had continued to come and look around, he was sure, even if just accidentally, they would come across it.

Drawing suspicion was the last thing he wanted for all of them.

Plus, although he was thankful for their hard work and patience, none of the investigators had come up with anything substantial. Every time they called, it was the same old song. He had memorized every ring and every rhyme. But Tasha held onto each as desperately as anyone drowning would hang onto a lifesaver, so he continued to entertain it, just for her, even if it meant getting swallowed up by critical waves of grief rather than braving a strenuous swim ashore.

At least, by that, he could remain true to his vow, that they would be together, life or death.

Still, he could not deny that much had changed. The spring of summertime seemed to have ignited this permanent shift brightly, both good and bad. He was proud to witness what kind of people his children had become. Adam, Bree and Chase primarily had reservations when it came to Tasha, and he respected that. Although he knew how much they craved for a mother in their lives, having someone come in to fill that role so suddenly was a change that had taken some adjustments. However, after their loss, he saw that the barrier he once thought stood between them and his wife did not exist. They were at her side faster than he could be, and they had not abandoned their self-assigned duty to comfort their stepmother.

Adam was almost always near Tasha whenever she was home. He wouldn't say much; he would just sit close by, play games on his tablet or attempt to finish his homework. Occasionally, he would ask a question about his stepmother's day, but that was it. Donald had a feeling Adam knew as much as his father does that space was important, so he didn't intrude.

Bree, on the other hand, did frequent her stepmother's side, but she instinctively came when she was needed. In those times when she perceived that Tasha was sad, she would step up next to her and would ask her to help her with different things, like reviewing for a test or picking out clothes to wear the next day. Sometimes, she would even go the extra mile and invite Caitlin and Ayanna over for a girls' night in. Then, unanimously, they would invite Tasha over to watch a movie with them. It was a tactic that worked ninety percent of the time.

Chase proved the most sensitive to their stepmother's needs during the first few months. He assisted her each way he could; he insisted, without being imposing, that he be allowed to. He tailed her, just like Adam did, and he found ways to take her mind off the brunt reality, just like Bree did. He picked up the slack that was left, and he did gladly so.

Donald would love to imagine that their recovery had been easy, that everyone had gradually gotten stronger, that they had been rising from the ashes and would soon soar smoothly ahead, but the truth was it had not and they were not. Grief was as merciless a wrecker than death, which it followed, and neither countless trainings nor tested experiences had prepared them against it.

Chase had left home almost two months ago for Stanford, as was the requirement for freshmen to live on campus. He visited almost daily and even called frequently, but after a disastrous start with his classes at the university due to poor sleep and excessive exhaustion, the rest of the family decided to talk him into limiting his dropping by to twice a month. He wasn't happy with the decision at first, but after a long and deep conversation with Adam and Bree, who both made known to their little brother that they wanted him to enjoy the full feel of college life, and a curt yet warm reasoning from Tasha, he reluctantly agreed.

Although they were happy that his life seemed to gradually fall into something more normal and stable, there was no denying that not having him around was difficult. Chase was a thread that held them together, and his premature removal certainly laid bare several voids that they had tried to abandon to ignorance.

Bree's kindness and loyalty to her family, despite being warmly welcomed by them, had somehow earned her much ostracism from certain students in their school. Her act of confronting Stephanie for the girl's very disrespectful attitude during the funeral months prior elicited anger from the cheerleaders. Bree's first week back in school was filled with tales of cheerleaders waiting for her in the restroom and sometimes the parking lot. However, Adam was quick to take on the role of being her personal protector, even managing to have their other friends watch out for her. What tilted the scales more to their favor was the involvement of a less expected acquaintance.

Donald smiled to himself. Those teenage girls may be mean, but they were dwarfed when stacked against the temperament and slyness of one Kerry Perry.

Still, it was evident that Bree was having a tough time going through what should be her best and last year in high school, mostly because the person she had expected to go through all the final projects, all college application deadlines and the big graduation day itself with was gone.

Adam, on the other hand, had long recovered physically from the accident months ago, but his view of everything, Donald noticed, was not the same. He seemed to doubt a lot, and although it didn't prevent him from completing his task during missions, it had been creating occasional strains whenever he dealt with people. They suspected it was brought about by the horrendous experience of waking up and finding out that the person he was willing to give up his life for ended up losing his. He was finding it difficult to trust people like before, he disclosed to Tasha once. His mind always led him to question the trueness of what people tell him.

Adam said he knew he should believe them, as many things point out that he should. But, he said that at times, it was easier not to. That someone had lied and told them that a person they loved would never come back was a thought much easier to accept, he had said.

These consequences that plagued Adam, Bree and Chase broke Donald's heart in an unspeakable way. No good father wants their children's innocence to be ripped away by the world in that harsh way, after all. Others may think that they were old enough to experience these things, but as their parent he still thought it was too soon.

However, what buried the dagger deeper into his chest was the gradual but very visible decline in his marriage. He never wanted things to come to that point. He desired for a positive change, even a little, so much, but circumstances had revealed that he had as much control as a spectator watching a fruit fall off its tree.

He acknowledged that that effect was borne by a two-fold cause. Tasha had shown sufficient strength in their time of loss, but her weakness still overpowered her frequently. Certain nights, she would cry as she drifted off to sleep. Most of the time, he would take her into his arms and she would hold onto him, and for the rest of the night, he would lie in bed with her, feeling each hitch of her breath as she sobbed and smelling the watered scent of her floral perfume and the warm fog of her breath.

But sometimes, when he knew his arms couldn't offer any encouragement, he would guiltily let her cry by herself, silently hoping that sleep would take her to wonderful dreams so that she wouldn't suffer any more for the rest of the night.

Donald knew that the heavy load of remorse he carried had been contributing to the strain in their relationship also. Tasha had kindly told him before that she didn't blame him for anything. The problem was that he blamed himself, and he felt justified in feeling that way. It consumed him to watch as she devoted herself into taking care of her household and loving her stepchildren and her husband like she had never loved them before by day and plummeted into tears and ruin by night. It burned to see the emptiness, to listen to the deafening silence in the house almost every day, and it seared him to the flesh to know that he could have done much better to protect them, to protect _him_, from this.

_A little too hard on yourself, aren't you, Big D?_, he could almost hear Leo say.

Donald stopped his work. Then, he glanced longingly at the mission specialist desk he designed for the remodeled lab. If Leo had seen how it looked, with the touch screen panels he had been hinting for and the sleek new leather seat, he would have laughed giddily with delight. He would have spread out his arms upon the desk, as wide as his fingers could reach, and rest his cheeks contentedly upon it in an appreciative embrace.

Then, his stepson would come over and give him a hug while a rapid slew of thank you's came out of his mouth.

That image elicited a genuine smile from Donald. The boy was a wild combination of everything else, including being a hugger.

Eddy appeared on the screen on the wall at that moment. "Hey! Do you want to do something?" he asked hopefully.

Donald slowly swiveled towards him. He shook his head, the smile on his face slightly diminishing. "Not today, Eddy," he said quietly.

Normally, Eddy would complain, but months of experience had taught him that there was a time for everything and he had to respect that. "Okay," he said. Then, he retreated to his confines of darkness.

Donald sighed. He determined that Eddy's patience, no matter how forced, should at least be repaid in some way in the future.

As he was turning his attention back to the prototype he was fixing, his eyes snagged upon the crisp yellow envelope sitting at the far side corner of the table. He stared at it blankly, in a moment deeming it foreign. Soon, he remembered what it sheltered, and it caused a painful squeeze in his chest.

It was nothing but a back-up plan, he reasoned, just in case it gets too much for her, in case it comes to the point that she feels alone even when surrounded by many people.

If Leo had known what he was planning, he would have been furious. He would have tried to talk him out of it, and Donald was absolute that he would have listened.

However, life played out differently. There was no one to reason on matters like these but him.

Leo was gone, and there was only silence and emptiness to mind.

* * *

_to be continued._


	3. Three

_Many thanks to xxWasabiWarriorAlertxx, Swiftie22, Adeo1234, Lady Cougar-Trombone, LabGirl2001, and AlienGhostWizard14 for the reviews :)_

* * *

_Three._

Chase stared at the textbook in front of him listlessly. He was in his last class for the day, and he was honestly beginning to feel exhausted and impatient. He had been up quite early to finish a paper for his English Literature class, and the Chess Club and Latin Club decided to have a meeting the same afternoon. Both had been demanding, especially the former since a tournament was scheduled to start in the following weeks, that he was beginning to think that signing-up for two was a bad idea.

It did fill voids in his schedule, but he often found himself wondering if they ever had any purpose.

He wondered if anything there had any purpose.

Stanford was a wonderful university, no doubt, and he didn't regret going there instead of Columbia. The path to graduating with an engineering major, despite being sorely difficult, piqued his interest more than he thought it would. A number of his professors had been quite taken with him, and he suspected it had something to do with his age. Admittedly, his grades weren't too shabby, either. He had also found a small group of people to call his friends. He distinctly remembered Adam congratulating him with a proud grin when he introduced him and Bree to the four when they dropped by for a surprise visit one night.

Out of the group, he even found a close friend: Theodore Wills, an eighteen year-old from Georgia, who was prone to clumsiness and light sarcasm and had a knack for building gadgets and an incredible affinity to gym shoes.

It sank his heart that night when he realized why he felt compelled to befriend the oddball of the group. He was sure Adam and Bree detected the similarities. Now he did, too.

Besides friends, he had also attracted a different kind of attention. There was a girl he bumped to twice at the library, and she seemed to like him. She was nice, and she had a pretty smile. Mathai, she said her name was. He had talked to her a few days ago, while they waited in line at a coffee shop, he in a desperate need of a glazed donut and she in a search for a good soy latte. She had joked then that she had been stalking him, and he laughed. She tried to be more humorous by adding that she had been watching him come to the Law building every day, but he told her that he was not there for that major.

He laughed again then when she made a face. He told her it was okay.

"Well, maybe we can get some pizza Saturday night?" she had asked hopefully. "You know, just talk about what you're really majoring in?"

He stepped up uncomfortably when the line moved down. "Um, well, if you're okay with hanging out with a seventeen-to-be guy, then I guess that's good."

She had smiled coyly at him. "Well, this seventeen-had-been-for-seven-months-now girl definitely don't mind hanging out with a seventeen-to-be guy," she said.

So, Saturday night would be a date—his first date, to be exact.

There was no denying that his independent life had been treating him well. In fact, it was through these things that he saw the trueness of his stepmother's statement a long time ago, that after he took off from the branch he would continue flying.

Still, the distance made his heart sick, and the course of the journey overturned his stomach. He promised himself at the funeral that he was not going to let his little brother's death be in vain, yet that was how everything ended up happening. He had been determined to find whoever was responsible as soon as the time he allotted expired. Despite inane conclusions, such as that their loved one had taken his own life due to some baseless weakness they wrongly ascribed him, he continued his search even if his resources were limited and the list of suspects were non-existent.

As instinct beckoned, he went back to Jessi Evelyn Nash's last residence in Chula Vista to determine whether Douglas had anything to do with Leo's death. However, when he got there, he found out that a new family had moved into the house. When he asked if there were anything at all left by a previous occupant, the man of the house crossly answered that the house was wiped clean of anything when they came there. Before he could ask any other questions, the man rudely told him that he would give him ten seconds to get off the property before he release the dogs on him.

Beside that instance, nothing good and useful came up. He ran across several dead ends. He did run the image of the girl in the cemetery through as many facial recognition databases as he could access, but none of them turned up with any result. It was like she never existed.

He exhausted all the options he had in a random shot for an answer, but in the end he was left with empty hands and a broken promise.

"Mr. Davenport?" a distant voice called.

It shamed him to think about his future that increased in brightness, his new friends and a possible relationship when he knew that one of his best friends had to bury that same prospect six feet underground with him to save him.

"Any day now, Mr. Davenport."

A soft kick on the ankle snapped Chase out of his musings and effectively brought him back to the classroom. When he turned towards its source, he found Theodore gesturing with his eyes towards the front of the room. He frowned for a second, but when he caught sight of his raised hand and the varying degree of gazes from a few chuckling students, he remembered. He turned towards his professor, whose crossed arms appeared to have locked in a permanent twist in front of her.

"Well?" she demanded.

Chase opened his mouth to speak, quickly recalling the last question she asked her students back to mind. "Uh, homeostasis," he answered after a glance at his textbook.

His professor's eyebrows rose in the smallest of inches, impressed. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" she asked. "Since you had taken much of our time, why don't you go ahead and tell us what homeostasis is and why it's important to life?"

Chase nodded albeit embarrassed. "Homeostasis can be simply defined as the state of equilibrium, or at least a tendency to reach that. It's important, for cells and organisms, for us, because it means balance." He stared at the jack rabbit depicted on the page in front of him and suddenly, he remembered Adam's, Bree's and his first summer out of the lab, when Leo lured over a small rabbit with a carrot stick so he could show it to them. He sighed. "We all need balance," he finished.

His professor eyed him for a few seconds. Then, "Please pay closer attention in my class next time, Mr. Davenport." She swiveled on her feet to face the other side of the room before recommencing her lecture.

"Dude. You okay?" Theodore whispered covertly while a student asked a question.

Chase looked up. He nodded, forcing a smile on his face.

Theodore nudged him on the arm to acknowledge his answer before going back to taking notes.

Chase ignored the rest of the lesson and only mechanically followed what they were asked to do. He outlined when she told them to outline, he wrote when she told them to write. She cited which parts would be included in their upcoming test; he made a mental note of that.

The rest was a blur. All he could clearly remember was that rabbit in the backyard, how it swiftly skipped away when Adam approached it with too much excitement after Leo told him it was his turn to feed it.

Balance—he remembered that, too.

It was, after all, the necessity of life that had been eluding them the most.

* * *

_to be continued._


	4. Four

_Much thanks to xxWasabiWarriorAlertxx, LabGirl2001, dreams71, Lady Cougar-Trombone, 88keys, and Swiftie22 for your reviews! I know I owe one of you a reply. I'll try to be better this week._

* * *

_Four._

A light breeze swept past over the roof and through the sizeable parking lot in front of the house. The air smelled of salt, and its coolness brought a certain refreshment. Gently, it incited the trees to whisper, while it moved the blooms in the flower box to sway. Like the still sea it mimicked, it brought a sense of peace.

To Torrance, however, this small showcase of beauty in nature in that early hour of the morning was lost. Her eyes were trained with such intensity to the coordinates pushing upwards in her screen that she neglected to savor her last moments in the islands. Her fingers moved skillfully across the keyboard, busily inputting several commands to the program she had created long ago that she remained oblivious to the pleasant feel of the wind against her skin as she sat on the hood of her trusty black truck.

The only other commotion to successfully win over her attention was the opening of the door in the garage. Leo struggled with the daunting backpacks slung over his shoulder but continued determined towards the trunk, careful less he break the sensitive equipment each of those held.

Torrance halted her work and sat up. "Leo Dooley—"

"No. I know what you're going to say," Leo said, his voice notably strained as he loaded the bags into the car. He exhaled audibly when he finished, and then walked up towards the front. He opened his mouth to speak but found that he was out of breath. He held up an index finger, gesturing for a moment to himself, after doubling over, his other hand on his hips.

Torrance examined him curiously.

When he regained enough energy, Leo stood back up. "I got it," he said though still breathlessly.

"You did not have to do that," Torrance stated simply.

Leo grinned. "Come on, Tor. Like I would let you tackle those bad boys by yourself," he said.

Torrance stared. Then, she smiled. "I appreciate it," she said before turning back to her laptop.

"Don't mention it," Leo said. He walked around to the other side of the car and climbed to the empty spot beside Torrance, using the sturdy wheel of the car as a step. "Adam's bionics would come in handy, though. I wish I had his super strength so we can move things easily," he commented as he scooted closer to her, nestling her small backpack between them.

"It would be very useful," Torrance agreed distantly.

"Yeah." Leo peered at the screen of her laptop. The red outline of the US map, complete with the states and their divisions, caught his attention. What intrigued him, however, were the pulsating dots on it. "You've narrowed down his location?" he asked.

"Not as much as I hoped to, unfortunately," Torrance answered. She clicked on one of the side icons, calling it up to the middle of the screen. She expanded it with her fingers, revealing a list of ten cities and their states. She looked at Leo. "These are his remaining possible whereabouts. These places have the highest concentration of connectivity and activity in relation to the mainframes in your stepfather's company and in his house," she explained.

Leo nodded. He reached out for the list on the screen but paused to ask, "May I?"

Torrance nodded once.

Leo touched the ninth item, Hatteras Island, North Carolina, and held his finger in place. Soon, the name in red progressively turned a deeper crimson color until the letters disintegrated into pixels. He sat back. "Well, the island is out," he said. "The program is reading activity because Big D has a branch facility nearby."

"I gathered as much," Torrance said. "Besides electronic correspondences and remote updates on a few systems, there's nothing."

"Yeah. I didn't pick up anything, either," Leo remarked thoughtfully. "Maybe we can set up some zombie drones to speed up our search?"

"Through what means?" Torrance asked. "Douglas Davenport had been in the dark for months. Unless he has completed his project, I doubt he will access anything that can be used to trace him."

"Well, there's always a chance he would try to check his e-mail. I can always disguise it as something official. All it takes is one click from his side and we're in," Leo answered. "It's been too long. I know him. He's not going to stay put this long without doing something. He couldn't. He's always wanted Adam, Bree and Chase back. He's not going to wait."

"Some of the most dangerous predators are skilled in the art of patience, Leo Dooley. Your step-uncle may not be too different," Torrance said. She noted the hint of discouragement in the pensive expression on his face. There was also that longing and that emptiness that threatened his once fiery determination. "You miss them," she stated.

Leo considered addressing the charged statement. But, knowing how this would only disable him in his all too important task, he decided otherwise. "I can't," he said simply. "Not right now."

Torrance refused to stare, acknowledging how that would only worsen what he was feeling. Instead, she reverted back to her work of closing and logging off several programs before they embarked on the long trip ahead.

"Why are we heading off to New York again? I didn't see it on the list," Leo asked, snapping back to a somber mood when he sensed the awkwardness that thickened around them.

Torrance waited as her laptop shut down. "An old acquaintance will be in town," she explained. "I scheduled a meeting. I thought we could use more help."

"Wait. An old acquaintance?" Leo asked. He grinned. "Are we about to go on a ten-hour drive just to meet with a hacker ex-boyfriend?" he teased.

"Don't be so absurd, Leo Dooley. There is no such thing as a hacker ex-boyfriend," Torrance remarked pragmatically.

"Right," Leo said, trying not to laugh.

"This person has connections that we could use," Torrance explained. "As you have said, sufficient time has passed. It will not be long until Douglas Davenport comes out of hiding. It will be too late by then. We need to best him at his own plan."

Leo detected a shadow of hesitance and wariness in her tone and decided to store this knowledge away for later use. "Where are we supposed to meet this old friend of yours?" he asked.

"Only _I_ am going."

Leo frowned. "What? How come I can't go?"

Torrance looked at him blankly.

Leo fought the inclination to roll his eyes. "It's one of those things you won't give me an answer for, isn't it? Like when I ask you how you knew about me or how you even found out about Douglas' project?" He grinned sardonically. "Or why the sky is blue?"

Torrance said nothing. Inwardly, however, she was amused by his frustration.

The silence unsettled Leo more. "You know, this is not helping our partnership in any way," he protested, jumping off the hood of the car. "It's not very healthy, you always hiding things from me."

Torrance slid off the comfort of her seat as Leo started walking back towards the house. "I don't hide things from you," she said sincerely. "I simply—"

"—withhold things that do not pertain to the matter at hand," Leo spoke the words as Torrance said them. He turned around, a ghost of a dying glare in his eyes. "I know. You've told me that a hundred times." He sighed. He was obviously exasperated, but his conscience had beckoned him to be more understanding and so he followed, though hesitantly so.

Torrance took in his sad countenance. "Leo Dooley," she called to him, her eyes soft. "How long did it take you to check all the activity we picked up here?"

Leo shrugged. "About a week," he said.

Torrance nodded. "It looks to me that you are progressively doing well," she smiled encouragingly.

Leo glared. "Is this your way of saying you're sorry?" he asked.

Torrance lightly shook her head. "No," she said.

"Fine."

"Although, it is my way of saying that I think you're ready," Torrance said.

Leo frowned at her. "Ready? For what?"

"An old client of mine contacted me yesterday about a job. He needs an antivirus software for the small library he owns. He also requires a security software. He said he is willing to pay a good amount of money if he is satisfied with it," Torrance explained. "After New York, if you are up to it, it's yours for the taking."

Incredulous, Leo blinked. "Up to it? Wait. You're serious? You're giving me this job."

"I trust that you will be able to do it, yes."

"And this client…"

"A good man. He lives in Alaska with his wife," Torrance assured him. "I hope that's good?"

Leo grinned. "That's good," he said. "Sounds great, actually. Deal."

Torrance suppressed the smile threatening to emerge on her lips. "Whatever he pays us is yours," she added.

Leo nodded. "So, had he given us access or…?"

"No, but unlocking systems had always been your best suit," Torrance noted proudly. Her eyebrows rose. "Is there really such a thing as password to you now?"

Leo wagged an index finger in the air as his eyes narrowed. "Good point," he said before slowly swiveling on the heels of his feet and walking back to the house.

"Leo Dooley?"

Leo glanced back, halfway in, halfway out of the open door.

"Do create the zombie drones," Torrance said sincerely. "It is an excellent idea."

Leo smirked appreciatively then went inside.

Torrance kept her eyes towards the empty garage even after he was gone. She realized then that a delighted expression had somehow made its way through her features. Immediately, she subdued it and forced it to subside. She knew that the act was an evidence of her growing attachment to the boy, and it simply could not exist.

It should not, because friendship is a harmful thing—especially in the Underground system.

Remaining distant had always been a well-mastered skill for her, and it worked well to her advantage. The absence of emotional tethers to anyone allowed her to jump into the fast-paced stream of jobs and to let it take her wherever it wanted to. It offered solitude, which she gladly took. Solitude meant stability and better control, two of which the life in the foster home she abandoned when she was twelve sorely lacked.

She thought she could maintain a degree of it even if he stayed with her. It should have been easy to do. The boy was clumsy and had the annoying tendency of not taking things seriously. She found his focus unable to reach her standard. It repelled her from him, and that was well. It was a factor she desired in the scheme anyways.

Soon after, however, she saw qualities that, as it added, gradually and unknowingly led her to mentor him. His endurance was good, in that even though he struggled from being severed from the people he was strongly attached to, he kept in mind what was important. Given, once or twice she had to lend a hand, but he knew how to cast a reign on his own emotions. He was also intelligent. She had known this. After all, if he had been able to go back to school that year, he would have been a senior at only sixteen.

Still, she did not expect its extent. He brought ideas to the table time and time again that, to her, seemed inane and juvenile, but almost always worked. His stepfather had influenced him much, too. Idle times in their months long search had had him design and produce gadgets that had proven useful.

He often created them in twos—one for him, one for her.

And his inclination to share, she discovered, was the catalyst to her acceptance of him. She tried to employ subtle attempts of keeping him at bay when she noticed the bond forming between them. Yet, the more she tried to distance him, the more he tried to befriend her. Even when he teased and they argued, the spark of warmth he offered gave her a sense of familiarity, as if their misunderstandings were similar to siblings' misunderstandings that soon solved itself after a meal or an hour or two apart.

She had drawn close to him, and that had been a mistake.

Her inclination to share her knowledge with him rendered him an individual skilled in many ways, and employers, both with good and ill intent, pay a lot of money for individuals like him.

Torrance decided to walk off the scenarios flashing in her mind and head straight to the house. Before she could enter, however, the phone in her pocket vibrated. She took it out.

**From: SK**

**09/25/14, 2:31 AM**

_Will b in NY tonite, as planned. U still hve d kid?_

Something within her stilled. She glanced behind her to make sure no one had read the message over her shoulder before answering.

**09/25/14, 2:31 AM**

_Restaurant in Broadway. I will meet with you there._

**From: SK**

**09/25/14, 2:32 AM**

_Can't wait. It's been 2 long, Tory_

Torrance pocketed her phone once she was done. Where her loyalty lay had been clear from the start. In no way and by no means should it change, friends or not.

* * *

_to be continued._


	5. Five

_Many, many thanks to these four awesome people - Lady Cougar-Trombone, LabGirl2001, xxWasabiWarriorAlertxx, and Swiftie1989! My appreciation for your support goes beyond saying :)_

_One of my favorite chapters. I hope you guys enjoy._

* * *

_Five._

Dark clouds diverged above the small city in Delaware, forewarning those who peered upon it of the inclement autumn weather that would ensue later on the day. It was a stark contrast in comparison to the activity below, which picked up speed as the early morning matured. This was especially evident to the patrons of a small diner located not too far from the interstate. Whereas the streets and buildings outside continuously wallowed in cold and gloom, the tables and booths inside basked in the warmth and noise of company and conversations that accompanied the breakfast hour.

These almost made the absence of any talk at the booth at the far end of the diner unnoticeable.

Leo frowned as he stared indecisively back and forth between Torrance, who sat with her arms crossed in front of her, eyes anchored down with fatigue and lack of sleep, and the car keys that lay invitingly beside her half-finished plate of the Sunrise Special. He narrowed his eyes, wondering if his plan would have even the least of successes. Then, slowly, clandestinely, he decided to reach for the keys.

"I would rethink that choice, if I were you, Leo Dooley," Torrance said calmly, stopping him short, her eyes still closed.

"Wha… How'd you even see that?" Leo asked.

Torrance opened her eyes. "I do not have to see what you're doing. I just have to know why you would be doing it," she said. Then, she grabbed the keys from the table.

Leo watched in dismay as she slipped it in the pocket of her leather jacket, which lay neatly folded on the seat beside her. "Oh, come on! Why won't you let me drive to New York?" he pleaded. "You're obviously tired! And sleepy!"

"I don't feel comfortable with you behind the wheel," Torrance answered frankly.

"Why not?"

Torrance picked up the steaming mug of hot chocolate in front of her. "Because, Leo Dooley, you don't have insurance," she said before taking a hearty sip of her drink.

Leo's face cleared of the frown to give way to a blank stare. "We're on our way to ask for backup to track a madman, who may or may not be close to putting his _psychotic_ plans into action, and your concern is me not having insurance," he stated rather than asked.

Torrance picked up on the frustration in his tone and opted not to rashly debate. "I have reason to believe that it's a legitimate issue," she said.

"Yeah, and I have reason to believe that this conversation had veered off into something legitimately insane," Leo said. Determined, he got up far enough to be able to lean over the table and reach for her jacket. "Just let me drive—"

Torrance slapped his hand with the flat of the spoon on her plate.

"Ow!" Leo drew his hand back to him, the action forcing him to sit back to his own side of the booth.

"You are not driving," Torrance stated firmly.

Leo glared. "Fine," he said. "But if I have to sit in silence for five more hours, I promise you, I will jump off the window and roll out into the interstate, mission or not."

When Torrance caught sight of their waitress, she waved her over. After requesting a set of to-go boxes from the polite woman, and after the woman left with a promise of boxes and their check, she said, "I do not understand why you are so insistent on listening to music, Leo Dooley. Music moves you to feel a certain way, and I, for one, would rather be in control of what I feel."

"That's what playlists are for. You get to put together the songs that you feel like jamming to," Leo said, chewing on the strip of bacon that he picked up from his plate. His eyebrows rose. "You know, if I didn't know that you're only a few months older than I am, I wouldn't think you're sixteen."

The waitress came back at that moment. She placed down the boxes and a plastic bag in the middle of the table then handed the receipt to Torrance. Torrance courteously smiled and thanked her. The waitress told her it was not a problem and invited both of them to come back before she left.

Leo spoke as he packed away the very little amount of food left on his plate. "So. About this contact of yours…"

"I wish you would drop the subject, Leo Dooley," Torrance requested diplomatically, though Leo could detect slight frustration from reviving a worn-out topic.

"Well, I can't. This 'subject' concerns the people I left behind in Cali, and I think I've earned the right to know a little bit more of what I'm getting them and myself into," Leo reasoned resolutely.

Torrance pondered over it and decided that he had a point. She nodded curtly, a gesture of acceding. "I will only answer two questions the most," she said.

"Okay," Leo said. He sat up, his expression serious. "This person. Gray hat, white hat?"

Discomfort visibly overcame Torrance but only briefly. "Black hat," she answered.

Leo's features immediately wrinkled in shock then anger. _"What?"_ he exclaimed but only loud enough to fill their booth. "We're about to ask help from a bad news hacker, and you didn't think I should know about this?"

"I did not tell you because I knew you would view this decision with such an exaggerated negativity," Torrance replied calmly.

"An exaggerated—Really, Tor? Seriously. Exaggerated." Leo quickly glanced around to make sure no one was listening or was close enough to hear what he was going to say. When he saw that the other people in the restaurant were too preoccupied and unaware, he leaned forward and lowered his voice into something close to a whisper. "The way I see it, two things can come out of this: either this contact of yours will start taking an increased interest in my stepdad's company afterwards, which I don't doubt will happen, or he or she or whatever mindless prick it is will find out about my siblings, and the next time I'll see them and my parents on TV is on CNN." He sat back. "Tell me what's exaggerated about that."

"That is why I'm going alone," Torrance explained, no trace of defensiveness in her tone. "We can minimize the probability of those happening if my contact does not connect you to the search. This person will not give it much thought if I ask help in tracking Douglas Davenport. That is why it would be in everyone's best interest if you remain out of sight."

"So you're saying that as long as I stay out of the way and don't bother you, we'll all be better off?"

"Yes."

"Then why do I need to come with you to New York?" Leo asked, much calmer that time. He was still somewhat upset but was also becoming increasingly curious.

Torrance silently breathed deeply as she formulated and measured the best response she could give him so that he wouldn't resist coming to their intended destination. "Because, I strongly feel that after this, everything will be decided," she said, her words hiding half-truths and ghosts of denials. "You may not consider my contact as a wise choice, but, with the resources and knowledge this person will make available to us, it's the best choice." She looked straight into Leo's eyes. "This is your plan. You're taking the lead in this, so you have to be present. I am just assisting."

More bitter questions surged up in Leo's mind but he opted to discard them. He took a deep breath. Then, "How'd you even know this person?" he asked so evenly that Torrance almost failed to detect its presence.

"The contact is an old friend of mine," Torrance replied. "Both of us used to work for Victor Krane once upon a time. I was the one who introduced them."

Leo easily recognized the flicker of sadness in the change of intonation in Torrance's voice. Others would easily miss these changes that tell how she felt; he had, too, before he truly got to know her. Yet he knew well enough that the lack of expression on her face and the absence of movements that almost always accompanied it did not mean she felt as neutral and factual. This thus resulted in a degree of guilt to spread across him, causing him to reluctantly forgive her. "Victor Krane?" he diverted the conversation. "Isn't he some sort of a big shot in the Underground?"

Torrance nodded. "Victor Krane is not the largest paying client, but the jobs that he requires to be completed are high profile, scaling from white collar thievery to infiltration of government files," she answered, all traces of sadness gone. "If one manages to successfully pull off one of these for him, it usually results into more jobs from bigger clients who pay much more."

"So it's kind of like a boost on your résumé?" Leo asked as he started to sip on the remainder of his orange juice.

Torrance nodded again. "Correct."

"Huh," Leo mused. "How long has this guy been in the business exactly?"

"About twenty years," Torrance replied. "That much all of us who had worked for him know. It is almost amusing how none of us had really met him in person, but I suppose anonymity has its benefits."

"But you've heard his voice at least, right?" Leo asked, growing more and more intrigued. "You must have."

"No, I have not. He kept in contact with me before through a series of messages," Torrance admitted.

"So how'd you know it was him?"

"I just knew. Everyone just knows." It was then that Torrance saw a spark of curiosity in Leo's eyes. Inexplicably, a jolt of protectiveness kicked in somewhere within her. It moved her to regard Leo with such seriousness and say, "Victor Krane is a dangerous man, Leo Dooley. He only brings destruction, and he uses the hands of children to do it. You must avoid him at all costs."

To her relief, it seemed to have effectively effaced all unfavorable thoughts from Leo's mind. The boy shrugged. "Okay," he said.

Torrance eased back, content.

Leo laughed after a minute of silence. "You're definitely not a normal sixteen year-old girl," he commented. "I mean, you not liking music is okay, and you talking like an English professor is fine, but being high up there when it comes to computer skills and the amount of connection you already have?"

Torrance frowned lightly. "Why be like other girls?" she said. "I am much more efficient this way."

"I know. And it's awesome," Leo said plainly as he gauged the amount of juice he had left on his glass.

Torrance successfully refrained from smiling.

"You probably haven't given guys much thought, have you."

Torrance pondered over it. "Is it important?" she asked innocently.

"Nah," Leo said. He shrugged. "But it's nice."

"Are you thinking about Kerry Perry?"

Leo looked at her. "Well, yeah," he admitted.

Torrance paused as she thought. "I doubt I will ever understand why she chose you," she said honestly.

Leo grinned. "Why? You think she's out of my league?" he asked.

"In my opinion, you are not compatible for her," Torrance stated.

"I'm not."

"No. The two of you are polar opposites."

"Opposites attract," Leo pointed out, secretly amused at watching his friend voice her opinion on a subject they had not tackled before.

"Yes, but you and Kerry Perry are humans, not magnets," Torrance refuted.

Leo laughed. "Are you sure there are no exes I should watch out for?" he asked.

"No," Torrance answered. "I've only ever had deep regard for one boy, nothing more."

"Okay," Leo said. Then, his eyes narrowed as two words from her statement rang back in his head. "Wait. One boy? So you _did_ like someone."

"I do respect him very much, yes."

"Really." A mischievous smile spread across his face. "What's his name?"

Torrance stared at him blankly, as if he did not ask her a question at all.

Leo took it as his cue to drop the subject. The smile evaporating from his features, he slid their boxes of leftovers inside the plastic bag with a degree of disappointment and annoyance. Afterwards, he scooted out of the booth before putting his jacket on.

"Chase Davenport."

Leo's widened eyes snapped back at Torrance, only then realizing that she had not moved from her spot. He swiftly sat back to the booth, the plastic bag and the boxes almost getting crushed between his hand and the table in the process. _"What?"_ he said disbelievingly. "You have a crush on my brother?"

Unaffected, Torrance picked up her jacket and began to put it on. "Do not turn it into such a fanfare, Leo Dooley," she said. "The infatuation you ascribe into the way I view him is non-existent, I can assure you."

"Sure. But you admire him."

Torrance stood up from the booth. "Yes," she answered factually. "He is very intelligent and terrifically focused. He completes missions effectively, and he is not given into any nonsense. Those are admirable in any individual."

"And yet, it's Chase Davenport who caught your eye," Leo teased, a wide smile now expanding across his lips. He stood up. When Torrance left for the cashier's counter, he hurried after her. "Man. This is unreal. You and Chase," he said while she paid. He nodded. "Yeah. I can see that happening."

"Leo Dooley?"

"Hm."

"Why are we still having this conversation?" Torrance asked innocently with a slight tilt of her head, sincerely puzzled as to why they were still talking.

"Uh, because it's a big deal?" Leo said. "You've got to admit, finding out that your best friend likes your big brother is kind of mind blowing."

"We are not friends, Leo Dooley," Torrance pointed out pragmatically as she pocketed the change handed out to her by the woman at the counter. "As far as Chase Davenport, it is what it is."

Leo made a face. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means I am not your friend, Chase Davenport is your brother, and this topic should have been terminated two minutes ago," Torrance said. Then, she walked out of the door.

Leo followed suit. "Wait," he called after her. She stopped and turned around. "Look, Tor. I'm sorry. I guess I just got a little caught up. As far as I can remember, Caitlin's the only girl that's ever had a crush on Chase, and that whole episode is disturbing enough. But you… I just think it'd be cool for him."

Torrance said nothing, but from the almost microscopic shifts in her expression, he could tell she had pardoned his reaction.

Yet, unable to stop himself, Leo added, "Though, I think I figured out why you're really attracted to him." A laugh threatened to come out of him, but he suppressed it immediately by pursing his lips. "I think it's that magnetism app that he has."

Torrance looked at him as he grinned. She blinked and then turned around.

As she did, a low growl came from behind them.

Both Torrance and Leo halted.

A frown came over Leo's features. "Did you just growl?" he asked.

Torrance spun around to face him, the smallest of bends in her features revealing that she was as equally puzzled.

As she did, Leo felt a strong enough tug on their bag of leftovers. When he faced its source, he found a dog pulling the bag towards itself with determination and a playful ferocity. "Oh. Hey, boy," he said, an amused smile coming upon him. "Are you trying to find something to eat?"

"Oh—Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" a middle aged woman burst forth frantically from between a blue Trailblazer and a gray Malibu. She quickly ran in between Leo and the dog, the limitation in her movement borne from the incredulous height of her black heels and the tightness of her red V-neck and dark leopard jeggings creating quite an uncomfortable spectacle. "I am so sorry he went after your food like that," she told Leo. Then, she glowered at the dog. "Bad! You bad dog! You stupid dog!" she said as she hit it forcefully with the rolled up map in her hand. The dog whined, cowering away from them. "You worthless! Piece! Of cr—"

Leo instinctively grabbed onto the map as she swung it back to hit the dog, having witnessed enough of the woman's cruelty. It horrified him to see what he had done, but it was too late.

The woman turned around, her hostility now partly directed at him.

"Oh, I'm…I'm sorry." Leo let go of the map. "It's…It's just not necessary. It's okay. You don't have to be mad at your dog. It's alright."

"My dog? This ain't my dog," the woman said, shooting a diminutive glance at the poor creature sitting still nearby. "The mutt used to be my dumb ex's." She crossed her arms, carelessly smacking on the gum in her mouth. She huffed, "The nerve of that man. He left me his stupid dog before he skipped town with some blonde airhead. If he thinks he can come back in the future to take his pet back, he's about to be sadly disappointed."

While she spoke, Leo opened his box of leftovers to retrieve a sizeable piece of bacon. With an encouraging smile, he extended the bacon towards the dog and hoped that it would accept his consolation. "Disappointed?" he asked afterwards, not taking his eyes off it.

"Yeah. I'm about'ta give up the dog to the Humane Society," the woman answered. She untangled her crossed arms before unraveling the map in her hand. "Speaking of, you two know where it is? My ex stole a few of my things, including my GPS. I've got the address and everything, but I think I'm lost."

Torrance saw that Leo was too preoccupied, so she stepped up instead. "If you show me the map, I may be able to help you," she offered, walking towards the woman.

Their conversation was somewhat lost on Leo, especially when the dog began to look up. At first, it regarded him with much hesitation with its icy blue eyes. Then, slowly, it got up on its paws before approaching him cautiously. It sniffed the food on his hand first. Not long after, it ate it.

Leo's smile grew into a grin as he petted the dog.

"Mmkay. Thanks, kid. Having to come back to Queens in this situation is such a hassle, I'll tell you." She looked at Leo, who had gotten down on his knee as he offered the dog another bacon, and then at Torrance. "You want some good advice, young lady? If your boyfriend here starts messing up, take it as your cue to leave. Dump him immediately. Trust me; you won't regret it."

Leo laughed lightly. "Oh, I'm not her boyfriend," he said. He smirked back at Torrance. "She's actually my future sister-in-law."

Torrance stared at him, but he could tell from the underlying intensity that she didn't appreciate what he said.

Leo grinned as he ruffled the thick dark gray fur behind the dog's ears. "He's a Siberian husky, isn't he?" he asked the woman.

The woman narrowed her eyes. "I don't know. I never liked the dog. What do I care?" she said.

"Yes. He is," Torrance responded instead. "Very few breeds possess that shade of blue in their eyes. His bear-like paws and the details of his mouth are additional proofs of that as well."

"Cool," Leo said just as the dog was amicably nuzzling its head against his forearm. "What's his name?" he tried to ask the woman again.

"Kid. Are you not listening? I never cared much about the dog. I'm willing to farm him off. Why would I waste my time knowing his name?" the woman responded crossly.

Leo ignored her sour attitude and focused instead on the dog. The husky was affable, and he could tell from the way it easily attached to him that it liked him. He felt a seedling of pity for it. He remembered the way it was beaten, and he anticipated the way it would be pushed off to the shelter. He could tell that it was willing to be a loyal pet, but the owners it started off with weren't even the least bit of agreeable.

The woman it was with didn't even _look_ agreeable.

"Has he had all his shots yet?" Leo asked.

The woman shrugged. "I don't know. Yes, I guess," she replied. "My ex spent much more on this dog than me."

Leo nodded. He stood up. "You have a leash for him?"

The woman's brows wrinkled tensely. "Why are you asking all these questions?"

"Because I can save you a trip," Leo answered resolutely. "I'll take him."

The woman's face cleared off as she pondered over the offer.

Meanwhile, behind Leo, Torrance frowned lightly.

"Mmkay," the woman said decisively. "Throw in some gas money, and you'll have yourself a deal."

"Okay."

Leo pulled the hem of his jacket to get a better reach of the pockets, but before he could draw the money out, Torrance placed a hand on his arm, effectively stopping him. Leo looked back at her. "May I have a word with you?" Torrance asked.

Leo glanced at the woman, and then back at her. "Yeah. Sure," he said.

"I'll go get his stuff," the woman said after they both looked at her.

When she was gone, Torrance spoke decisively. "Leo Dooley, this dog cannot be with us."

"Why not? Look at him! I think he'll be a great addition to our team," Leo reasoned. "I mean, come on. A highly-skilled hacker, a gadget whiz and their wolf dog pet? Doesn't that sound cool to you?"

"This is not a wise decision," Torrance insisted.

"If you're worried about who's going to take care of him, don't worry! I will. I lived with my grandma for a while when I was younger, and even though her Chihuahua and I didn't get along, I learned how to take good care of a dog. It will be like he's not even there."

Torrance crossed her arms, still unsure.

"Plus, he belongs to us," Leo said.

"How so?"

"Because he doesn't belong anywhere else," Leo smiled at Torrance. "And hey. He can be a great protection for you. At least he can make those sick truck drivers back off when they start hitting on you."

"The gadget you have made for us two months ago has been working well and is sufficient," Torrance pointed out.

"Yeah, but it's not as cute as Linux," Leo said as he petted the dog.

"Linux?"

"Yeah. I think that's what I'm going to name him," Leo said thoughtfully. "It follows along on the computer history almost-tradition I have when it comes to pet names." He turned to the Husky with a smile. "How does that sound, huh, boy? Do you think Linux is good?"

Linux wagged his tail enthusiastically. He began to bark, but it ended up as a howl.

Leo grinned. He gestured excitedly towards the dog. "Tor. Wolf. Dog."

Torrance regarded both Leo and the dog unhappily. Her stand on the matter remained; having a dog accompany them was not a good idea. Without a doubt, the pro that Leo presented was inviting. They did need something to keep them safe, and she suspected they would need it more in the near future. Additionally, it would keep the teenage boy preoccupied, preventing him from needlessly questioning certain things that he had no business knowing yet.

Still, the amount of effort that would go to, not to mention the resources they may have to allocate to, accommodate his potential new pet had her thinking twice.

However, as she peered into the way the boy smiled brightly and the new spark that kindled his eyes, her decision melted into a compromise that she oddly forced herself to make.

It was moments like this where she wished the boy didn't remind her of someone she used to deeply care about a long time ago.

Torrance took a deep breath. "I will impose rules. If they are not met, the dog will have to go," she said.

"Okay," Leo acceded happily, returning back to his place after discarding the bag of leftovers in the trash can.

"The conversation about Chase Davenport will have to stop as well," Torrance said.

Leo held his hands up. "Like it never happened," he said.

Torrance nodded.

The woman returned at that moment with the leash in one hand and a deep purple felt bag on the other. "Here's his stuff," she said, holding out the leash. "I found his food bowl or whatever and some food at the backseat, too. I was about to leave those at the shelter with him anyways."

"Thanks." Leo took the items then handed her three rolled twenty dollar bills from his jacket. "I hope this is enough."

The woman checked the amount. Her mouth wrinkled to the side. "Yeah, should be fine. It should get me close enough," she said. She smirked. "Nice doing business with you, kid."

"The same with you," Leo said. Then, he and Torrance turned around to leave.

"Hey. Wait a minute." The woman caught up with them, her heels clacking against the cold pavement outside the restaurant. "You know, I've been doing a lot of thinking. And _you_—" she pointed at Leo, "you look familiar."

Leo resisted the urge to react instinctively. Though he could not see Torrance, he could tell she was feeling rather uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation. "I look familiar?" he repeated instead, trying his best to feign cluelessness.

"Yeah," the woman answered as she continuously smacked on her gum. She sighed. "I know I don't look like it, but I have an idyllic memory. You know. I remember things really well. And I think I remember seeing you in one of my ex's tech magazines. A few years ago, they had a huge profile thing with this Donald Davenport guy, and they had some pictures of his wedding to a San Francisco reporter. I usually don't pay much attention to things like that, but he was hot. Anyways, they had a picture from his wedding day of him, his new wife, and her then thirteen year-old son." Her eyebrows reached threatening heights while a smirk pulled on her overglossed lips. "I think that son is you."

_Eidetic,_ Leo absentmindedly corrected her as he remembered her claim. Or, at least, her confession, because he also remembered that feature coverage in the magazine.

There were many things he learned from Torrance, and one of them was controlling his reactions to the point of immediate deception. So, putting this to use, he frowned, as if deeply brooding, and then he smiled. "Oh, yeah. Yes. I think I know exactly who you're talking about," he said. "Leo Dooley, right?"

"Right!" she exclaimed excitedly. "You look exactly like him! Well, not really. You're much taller and much older. But, is it you?"

"Well, if he is as broke, then I guess I am him," Leo laughed.

The woman laughed, too.

Leo sighed contentedly. "But seriously, I get that a lot," he said. "It's just sad, though. The guy dying like that. It really makes me wonder about things."

The woman stared at him with a wide smile, still assessing his features and seemingly contemplating on his response. Then, there was a flicker in her movements that told Leo she had mostly bought the pretense. "So it's really not you?"

Leo shook his head. "No."

She narrowed her eyes. "What's your name?" she tested.

"Evan. Evan Jones," Leo extended his hand politely.

The woman shook his hand. "You live around here?" she asked, clinging to her last ounce of suspicion.

"No. Chelsea and I live a few states over," Leo said. "I'd tell you approximately where, but my parents said I shouldn't give that kind of information away to strangers. Right, Chels?"

"Correct," Torrance agreed.

The woman nodded. Then, she crossed her arms, now completely sold. "Alright. Well, have a safe trip back," she said.

"You, too," Leo said, latching the hook on the leash to Linux's collar. "Have a nice day. Thanks again."

The woman and Leo and Torrance turned around in opposite directions, separating just as a chilly gust of wind swept by the parking lot.

Torrance climbed the driver's side without any words. Meanwhile, Leo opened the door to the back and then instructed Linux to get into the seat. Linux looked at him blankly at first. A few seconds later, he obeyed, jumping up to the truck with finesse.

Leo deposited the felt bag underneath the backseat. He closed the door then walked around to the passenger's side where he got in. When he caught sight of the controls for the radio, he immediately reached out for it.

Torrance filled the gap with the bottle of antiseptic alcohol she retrieved from the compartment between them. "You must make sure your hands are clean at all times, especially after handling the dog," she said. Leo stared at her. "This is one of the rules you must abide by."

Leo sighed. "Fine," he said, unscrewing the top to the bottle before dousing his hand with the liquid. He nearly choked on the pungent smell. "Ugh. What is this?" he exclaimed in disgust as he handed the bottle back to her.

Torrance gracefully rubbed the alcohol all over her hands. "Ninety-one percent," she said as she put the bottle away. She started the car. "It should kill most of the germs."

"Yeah, and us, too," Leo protested as he rolled down his windows. Seeing that Torrance was preoccupied with watching the traffic behind them before backing out, he took the opportunity to turn on the radio.

A steady beat from a drum, coupled with a cheerful intro from a banjo, soon filled the car.

Recognizing the song, Leo grinned. "Nice," he said as he increased the volume a little bit more.

Torrance stared at him, thus regretting that she had allowed him to have command of the controls for the rest of their travel.

They pulled out of the parking lot just when the singer began his part. Soon, they were back on the road, the sky above appearing stale and bleak, the upbeat song filling the car as they headed towards New York.

* * *

_to be continued._


	6. Six

_Thanks to CosaBella, LabGirl2001, Swiftie1989, Lady Cougar-Trombone, AllAmericanSlurp, and 88keys for the reviews!_

* * *

_Six._

"Wow."

Leo marveled at the grand city that stood before him. It had already filled him with wonder when he and Torrance reached the empty art gallery countless blocks away, which would, for the meantime, be their new home, but he didn't get a chance to see it full on, not like the way he was seeing it at that moment. He concluded that Torrance must have sensed his repressed excitement to walk through the streets, because after he helped her carry all of their bags in, she asked him if he would like to take Linux on a walk. He tried not to jump at the opportunity so fast, asking her instead if she was sure she would rather not have him stay with her to help set up the few but intricate mess of chords and hardware packed safely inside the bags then sitting at the middle of the room.

She only stared at him, effectively reminding him how setting up the equipment was a personal matter to her and requires solitude.

So, putting Linux's leash on and suiting up for the rather cold weather, he walked out towards the busy streets, going where his feet would take him.

The range of buildings he primarily beheld—housing businesses and delis and full restaurants and apartments—brought a small wave of shock. He supposed it had something to do with being in the islands for quite a while. The contrast was stark—in smell, in sight, in everything. Whereas Hatteras constantly had that muggy but refreshing breeze from the ocean, the bright colors all around stimulating thoughts of freedom, New York was thick with a rather interesting concoction of scents, its hues as solid and angular as the thousands of bricks that he saw almost everywhere.

But that disappointment dissipated as soon as he reached the Metropolitan area. There, he saw what he always thought New York would be.

The proud constructions seemed as if they had once been dull pieces of land that had risen from the ground and as time went by, lights and colors crawled onto it and around it. The noise from cab drivers blowing their horns, people talking on their phones, songs blaring from phantom stereos and the constant siren from service cars pounded life into every crevice of the city. And it teemed with hundreds of people, completing the vibrant portrait that stretched out for miles.

Leo looked up at the sky after crossing the street. He smiled. With the dark clouds above threatening some sort of precipitation, he could almost picture the scene changing into something he had only seen in a snow globe.

Just imagine, him standing in the middle of all that.

He continued walking along, a bit more mindful of Linux and how the dog reacted to the number of people suddenly surrounding them after five hours of being on the road. Since the dog didn't seem to be bothered by any of it, he was able to take note of a few places he wouldn't mind visiting later on, especially when Torrance leave to meet with her contact. He already had Madame Tussaud's in mind, which they passed by on their way to their new place earlier. The wax museum is well known, and he had been curious about how the displays would look like up close.

The possibly pricey entrance fee and where Linux would stay while he was inside were, of course, issues he would have to consider, but he decided not to worry much about it until later.

The billboards in Broadway offered many shows, but then there was still that problem with money and Linux. Plus, he had never liked plays much anyways, except for maybe two or three. His mother had always loved the theater and as such had tried to instill that love in him when he was little. He remembered his father supporting that idea, too, which didn't surprise him; it was at a show in a college theater where his parents first met after all. It only made sense that they would introduce their only child to what started their story.

However, after his father died, his mother didn't seem to want to watch plays as much as before. He supposed it was because there were a lot of things in theaters that reminded her of him.

Still, every year, she made it a point to take him to one, specifically to his parents' old favorite.

Leo observed the mix of shopping centers, cafes, and diners absently and was lost in it for a while. Soon after, he began thinking about dinner. Torrance didn't mention when she was set to leave. He didn't want to assume she would get food on her own later, because she might be hungry too. His mind immediately prompted him to draw out his wallet to check how much money he had left. Two twenty dollar bills. It was more than enough, but then again the cost was dependent on where he would spend it on.

He stopped when an inquiry came to mind. He had been wandering aimlessly around the city that he didn't know exactly where he was.

At that moment, someone bumped into him. Instinctively, he spun around. Meanwhile, Linux looked back at him alertly.

"Oh. Sorry. I didn't see you there," a student, who looked somewhere in his early twenties and was sporting a gray hoodie and a backpack, told him with a soft smile. However, the student didn't wait for a response but continued going his way.

Leo watched him walk for several more paces before turning towards a gated establishment. Looking around, he saw the light blue banners hanging at the side of the streetlights, and he was suddenly aware of where he was and who was not there because of him.

Linux sensed the sadness that overcame his new master, and it moved the dog to trot back to him, sit at his feet, and look up at him.

Leo glanced down at his dog briefly before looking back up. "What a cruel irony, huh, Linux?" he muttered with a sad smile as he observed a few more college students hurry inside the gates of Columbia University.

* * *

_to be continued._


	7. Seven

_Second update of the day, probably last of the week. LabGirl2001, Lady Cougar-Trombone, AllAmericanSlurp - I will send you guys a reply for your early reviews (thanks for those, by the way!) :)_

_Another favorite chapter._

* * *

_Seven._

The stillness of the house, Bree noted, became the most apparent through the opening of the front door whenever she and Adam came home from school. There was always that soft swish, unfailingly accompanied by that shrill squeak from the hinges, which seemed to awaken and stir a sort of expectation from the house. Then, after the door closed, it would be followed suit by a dense muteness, and from that would come that thick disappointment that she had grown to dislike very much.

This was why lately, she had not favored coming home that early.

Adam headed straight to the kitchen counter and loaded his backpack up on it. Meanwhile, Bree tossed hers listlessly at the foot of the sectional before sitting down. She remembered how a little less than a year ago, she would never have an opportunity to sit there because Adam and Chase immediately occupied a good portion of it for their 'weekday-ly' bro time, playing those video games that she had always found so pointless and insufferable. So she would go down to the lab to unburden herself with the day's stress by depositing her backpack under one of the panels, pulling up a chair, picking up her father's tablet, and calling up the newest episode of her favorite show on the screen.

How quickly things could change, she thought grimly.

"Hey, Paul was looking for you earlier," Bree told Adam as soon as she sensed the familiar insidious thoughts lingering close by. "He said he had those forms you asked for?"

"Oh, yeah," Adam replied as he dug through his bag for his favorite pen. "Yeah, I wanted to start off my community service hours at this nursing home not far from here. He said they needed volunteers at the kitchen. You know. Just delivering food and stuff."

"Oh. Okay," Bree nodded, settling back on the sofa.

Her phone dinged as a new notice came up on her Facebook account.

She resolved not to be disheartened by what she read.

**Stephanie George commented on your photo.**

_See? Told ya #BreeDavenportistheUgliest #whataloser _

"I heard about Stephanie."

Bree looked up.

Adam had stopped in his attempts to locate the pen, regarding her instead with concern as well as protectiveness. "What was that about?" he asked sternly, a light but serious frown on his face.

Bree sighed, switching her phone off before placing it beside her. "It's just this dumb thing that Stephanie started," she said. "Apparently, she and her Power Rangers drew up a petition online to prove that I'm the ugliest girl in Mission Creek." Suddenly, a pen fell out of Adam's backpack. She stood up to pick it up for him. "From what I've heard, they've already got nine signatures," she said.

Adam examined her expression, especially the undistinguishable shadow that hovered over her eyes. "You don't believe them, do you?" he asked solemnly.

Bree scoffed, but Adam detected that the intent was incomplete. "No," she said, grinning. "I really think she's just ticked because I got that offer for Maryland and she didn't."

Adam wanted to tell Bree that it was okay if she was bothered by it, which he knew very well that she was and she had a right to, but the fact that she was trying to brush it off told him that it was not time for him to say that to her yet. Being the oldest of all the children, he had acquired that special skill of discerning his younger siblings' dispositions and placing things in their proper time. He may not employ it as frequently and as perfectly as he wished, but at that moment, he was sure that it would not help Bree if he tackled an issue she desired to avoid.

So, he didn't.

Still, he was moved to say, "Good. Don't believe them. Like you said, it's dumb."

Bree nodded with a smile, and Adam accepted that.

After Adam rummaged through his backpack a second time for the volunteer form, an earlier thought reoccurred to Bree. While she watched Adam fill in his name in the first blank, she began hesitatingly, "You know, I heard there were actually some kids who, uh…who were planning to support the petition."

Adam stopped writing, and then he looked up at Bree.

Allowing her anxiety to show, Bree braved to ask, "Do you think… Do you think Ayanna would…"

"Do I think Ayanna would support it?" Adam asked, and it was evident in his unintentional tone that he was appalled by the notion. He shook his head. "No, no, she wouldn't. Ayanna likes you. A lot. She even considers you as one of her best friends. I don't think she would even give that stupid petition a second thought—"

Bree laughed. "Adam, relax!" she told her older brother, fully entertained by his reaction. "That's not what I was trying to ask!"

Adam frowned. "Well, what were you trying to ask?" he asked, much more calmly after noticing how frantic he had sounded.

"I was going to ask if you think Ayanna wouldn't mind helping me with this project I had in mind," Bree explained, the grin on her lips bright and honest. "Going through something like this made me aware of how much bullying is going on in our school. It's not just me; other kids are affected too. Some _were_ affected. Like Leo. And—I don't think it should keep happening. So, I was thinking, if I start this, it would be helpful to have someone as strong-willed as Ayanna in the project." She looked at Adam anxiously. "I realize that this could get messy, but if we pull it off it could help a lot of students."

Adam stared at her blankly, quite surprised by the proposition. He smiled, feelings of pride expanding somewhere deep within him. "I think that sounds like a good idea," he said. He nodded. "I think she would love to help out with that. I can help, too, if you want."

Bree laughed. "I was hoping you'd say that," she said. "I kinda had a four-person team in mind to manage this project."

Adam frowned. Then, he tried to count off their names by the fingers in his left hand. "Okay, I still get a little confused with math," he admitted, "but I know enough that no way do you, Ayanna, and me count as a four-person team."

Bree smiled to herself, thinking of the girl she was planning to approach once she comes back from visiting her family in New York. "Well, it doesn't," she said.

"Then who's the fourth person?"

"Hi, guys!" Tasha greeted both of her children happily as she entered the kitchen. She walked towards the sink to wash her hands. "I didn't hear you come in. How was school today?"

Bree grinned after having been saved from the obligation of answering. She leaned upon the counter, watching her stepmother draw out three plates and three cups from the cabinet. She shrugged. "Not too bad. We had a pop quiz in Government today, but I have a feeling I aced it."

Tasha glanced back approvingly. "That's good," she said. She lined up the cups before opening the fridge to retrieve the carton of newly bought milk. "See? You're already on your way to the top of the class. Do you think you'll be trying out for one of the graduation speeches?"

Bree chuckled. "That's still a few months away," she said.

"It's never too early," Tasha said. She glanced back at Adam. "What about you, honey? How did your day go?"

Adam shrugged. "Good," he said. "I finally know how it feels like to have a B on a test."

Bree's eyes snapped back at him. "You got a B?" she asked, incredulous. "Where?"

"Chemistry. Ayanna had been tutoring me in a few of my classes," Adam answered. "She's really smart, and she explains the lessons to me in ways that actually make sense."

"Wow. We should invite your girlfriend more often," Bree said.

Adam nodded in agreement.

Tasha slid three plates containing sandwiches on the counter, one beside Adam, one in front of Adam, and one in front of Bree. Three glasses of milk followed suit. "There you go!" she said, putting away the large plate that contained all of the snacks and the saran wrap that covered it.

Adam took a bite out of his sandwich, raspberry jam, with slices of fresh strawberries just like he preferred it, before glancing at the plate beside him. "You're eating with us?" he asked hopefully.

Tasha put the milk away. "No. That's for you three," she said.

Bree froze.

Adam, on the other hand, looked at his stepmother curiously. "For us three?" he repeated.

Tasha nodded. "Yeah," she said. "You, Bree, and..." She stopped. Her smile faded slowly into non-existence as she realized her mistake. "Oh."

Seeing the confused expression on his stepmother's face, Adam smiled encouragingly and amended with, "Well, it's okay! Chase will be coming soon. We can just put it away for him to eat later."

Tasha, becoming more embarrassed, nodded rapidly as she took the third plate away from them, transferring it towards the other counter. "Yeah. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea, baby," she said, offering Adam a quick grin. She intended to grab the box of saran wrap from one of the drawers, but the thoughts and memories that washed over her as she stared at the sandwich prevented her from doing so. She bit her lip, and then placed a hand on her hip. She took a deep breath, and then mustered the last of her strength to smile at her children.

Bree, however, could see that the simple question had accidentally triggered something within her.

"Do you guys mind wrapping this up for me?" Tasha asked politely. "I think I need to lie down for a bit before dinner."

Adam noticed then that something was amiss. Still, he decided not to acknowledge it for the moment. "Sure," he said.

Tasha nodded, and then she headed upstairs.

When she was gone and was surely out of earshot, Adam looked at Bree anxiously. "Did I say something wrong?" he asked guiltily.

Unsure of what had happened, Bree walked over to the counter to examine the sandwich. Crusts cut off, peanut butter filling. "This is not for Chase," she concluded quietly.

The light frown on Adam's face cleared out, only to make way for terror as realization came to him of what he had done.

To prevent her older brother from feeling unnecessary remorse over an honest mistake, Bree smiled at him. "It's okay. I'll go talk to her," she said, patting him comfortingly on the shoulder before descending up the stairs.

The hallway on the top floor of the house was not as spacious as the ones downstairs. There were very few rooms up there, the biggest room being their parents'. That was why it was easy to hear the muffled sobs even without straining for it.

Knowing her footsteps alone could alarm and make her stepmother feel more humiliated, Bree approached the room carefully. This gave her time to think about what she was going to say. It had happened before, after all—her stepmother preparing a plate for Leo. She had been much mortified then, when she saw that she had set out six sets of dinnerware at the poolside table in the back three months ago for their family dinner of five. Bree guessed it was a habit that would continue to resurface from time to time, much like her personal habit of getting two candy bars from the vending machine at school every Thursday after school, which she used to do for her youngest brother.

She had done it only a week ago, so she was sympathetic to what her mother might be feeling.

When she reached the slightly ajar door, she knocked softly. Then, she leaned in to peek inside.

Tasha sniffled as she wiped her tears with the back of her hand. She glanced up briefly from where she sat, from the side of the bed nearest the door. Her subsequent action of angling herself away as allowable (so as not to be rude to her stepdaughter) told Bree that she felt so small for having been seen at that state. "Hi, sweetheart," Tasha said, her voice still somewhat shaky. "Is, uh, is something wrong with your snack? I wasn't too sure if you prefer it cold like Adam does."

Bree smiled. "It's fine," she said. Slowly, she stepped inside the room. Discerning that her stepmother was not offended by the action, she continued on towards the bed and sat facing her. "You know, you don't have to hide from us when you're sad," she told her.

More tears rolled down from Tasha's eyes, and these she wiped again with the back of her hand. She glanced up at Bree, unsure at first if it was proper at all to say what she was thinking. She was the mother, and she should be the one being strong for her—not the other way around. Yet, her stepdaughter's kindly presence reassured her that the girl would hold no judgment against her. "I miss him," she said. She sighed. "I just miss him so much."

Bree stood up to retrieve the box of tissues she saw at the night stand. Sitting back down, she tilted it towards her stepmother. "I know. I miss him too," she said, watching her dab her cheeks dry with the tissues she pulled out. A small grin came up her lips as a reason occurred to her. "He used to eat the snacks you would leave for me in the fridge when we came home from school. Now I have to pick up his slack and have to suffer weight gain because of it."

Tasha chuckled, and this delighted Bree. "That boy," she said, her voice still congested but her tone much lighter. "He always ate a lot."

"I think that was his bionic ability," Bree joked. "Empty the fridge in one sitting."

Tasha chuckled again, but it was evident in the quickly departure of the grin from her face that the happy thoughts about her son made her heart yearn for him more.

"I know it's not the same, but I hope you know that we're here for you, Tasha," Bree spoke sincerely. "We love you." She paused. Then, she said, "_I_ love you."

Tasha looked up at Bree. She smiled, just as tears rolled down her cheeks. She stared at her stepdaughter for a while before she spoke softly. "Those girls…" she shook her head, "don't you ever believe what they say."

At that moment, Bree's smile slowly faltered. She had been too focused in comforting her stepmother that she failed to notice how she was able to see through her, too.

"They're just jealous of you," Tasha said, regarding Bree with pride and wonder, "because you're beautiful in a way they'll never become." She then tucked the lose strands of hair that hid her daughter's face behind the girl's ear. "And I'm not just saying that because I'm your mother," she said.

Bree grinned, the self-consciousness and self-doubt that secretly bothered her for days leaving her.

Tasha saw this and so further affirmed the affection she felt for her by gathering her into her arm, enclosing her in a warm hug.

Bree, meanwhile, scooted over, leaning her head into her mother's shoulder happily.

Not long after, Tasha sensed the presence of another person outside the door. With a laugh, she called out, "Adam. Come here. You can come in."

There were no movements at first. Then, the door started to open wider, soon revealing a guilt-ridden Adam.

Tasha waved him over, patting the empty spot on her right while not letting go of her hold on Bree. "Come here. It's okay," she said.

"I'm sorry," Adam said as he sat down. "I'm really sorry."

Tasha brought him into her embrace with her other hand. "Oh, it's not your fault, baby," she assured him. "It's nobody's fault."

Adam responded by leaning closer to his stepmother, letting the warmth of her hug counteract the negative thoughts that plagued him.

The three of them sat in silence for a while, Tasha holding her children close, Adam leaning into her, and Bree remaining close both of them, her head on Tasha's shoulder and her right hand locked on Adam's arm. Unlike the lack of noise that predominated most of their days lately, this one was welcome, as through this they spoke to each other instead.

"Ow."

Adam disengaged from them, disrupting the moment, as something cold sharply pricked the skin on his arm.

"What's wrong?" Tasha asked worriedly as Bree sat up.

Adam examined the web of ice lightly covering his forearm with a frown. "Something just…" he trailed off. As a thought occurred to him, he darted a questioning look at Bree.

Bree stared back at Adam and Tasha, puzzled, but also scared. She lifted up the hand she used to hold onto Adam and saw the ice dispersed around her fingertips. Looking at the box of tissues in her other hand, she saw the same solid clear glimmer surrounding her fingers as well as the yellow-colored carton.

Out of panic, she threw the box towards the ground.

Adam grinned. "Did you just unlock a new ability?" he asked in awe.

"I…I don't…" Bree, still frightened, stuttered.

Tasha chuckled. "Aw, honey. Don't be scared," she said, giving her another hug. "It'll be okay."

"Yeah, Bree," Adam chimed in. His grin grew bigger. "In fact, I really think you should _let it go_."

Tasha looked back at Adam and then laughed when she recognized the reference.

Bree, on the other hand, darted him a glare. But soon, she also found it humorous, and a chuckle escaped from her. "This is so not funny," she said, still somewhat upset about Adam's joke but none too bothered by it anymore.

Adam laughed. "Yes, it is," he said. "Hey. Now you can show Stephanie up, because it looks like you're the queen."

Bree shook her head, rolling her eyes.

The conversation that continued on at her expense flooded the hallway, successfully banishing the echoes of heartbreak and loneliness that once clung to the walls. It was only ephemeral, just as almost anything joyous that happens in the house as of late, but it would not be turned away.

This, Chase acknowledged as he sat on the top of the stairs with a smile, listening to and safekeeping the laughs and the snide remarks exchanged between his older siblings and the woman he had always viewed as his mother.

* * *

_to be continued._


	8. Eight

_Many thanks to LabGirl2001, Lady Cougar-Trombone, xxWasabiWarriorAlertxx, and 88keys for your reviews!_

* * *

_Eight._

The scene Leo came into when he and Linux arrived back at the art gallery at around a quarter past eight was a surprising first. Torrance was sitting on the floor, tucked within a comfortably arranged pile of bags. Her laptop was shedding a soft glow on her face as it sat on her lap, with his white pair of ear buds (which he thought he had accidentally left in North Carolina earlier) plugged into her ears, a bowl of popcorn nestled close by. He frowned, still somewhat stunned how, from where he stood, she actually looked like a teenager. _Or like a human life form_, he thought.

From the dominant darkness that the autumnal equinox casted over the city—and apparently the gallery as well—, Torrance looked up. She slowly took out the left ear bud. "Leo Dooley," she said evenly, not so much surprised of his presence. "I didn't expect you to come back so early. I thought you would be staying out for another hour."

"Well, I got bored. And hungry. But mostly bored," Leo said, kneeling down to unlatch Linux's leash from his collar. The dog gratefully watched as his master strode to the bathroom afterwards. As he turned on the faucet, Linux lied down, finding his spot comfortable enough. "What are you still doing here?" Leo asked over the rushing water as he washed his hands. "I thought you would have left to meet with your contact by now?"

"We will not be meeting until later tonight," Torrance responded.

"Oh." Leo turned off the light in the bathroom after he finished then headed straight towards her. The focused though still relaxed expression on Torrance's face as she stared at the screen puzzled him. With a curious expression, he leaned to his right to get a better view of what she was watching. When he recognized it, a shocked grin slowly came upon his face. "No way. Guillermo and Anna? Are you serious?" he asked. "I didn't peg you to be a Morning Light fan."

Torrance looked up at him. "Morning Light is my favorite show," she said factually. She frowned lightly. "I thought you knew?"

Leo shook his head. "No."

Torrance thought that that was interesting but only for a second. Her eyes were back on the screen soon after, her left hand accurately finding the bowl to retrieve a few pieces of popcorn to chew on.

Leo crossed his arms. "Wow. I can't believe this," he said. "I thought you'd be more of a National Geographic or Animal Planet type of person."

"Why?"

"I don't know," Leo shrugged, his arms unknotting in front of him. "You just seem like the type of smart person who'd want to know more things even if you already know a lot. Not someone who likes Spanish soap operas."

"Well, too much unnecessary knowledge eliminates the most basic of necessities," Torrance said.

"Which is…?"

Torrance looked up. "Instinct," she said.

Leo pondered over her words then shrugged-nodded in agreement.

A query wrought Torrance's expression mildly into a frown soon after. "Leo Dooley?"

"Huh?"

"How did you know the main characters' names?"

Leo's expressions cleared as the dread of being discovered overcame him. He contemplated on how to approach the question, leaning towards lying to get himself out of an awkward situation. But he realized that there was no use for it; he was confident that Torrance would detect the fib anyways. Not only that, he also didn't think he should hide something away from her out of fear of being made fun of when he knew that, with her, it was not going to happen. So, he answered, "I used to watch it with Mom before she got married. You mind scooting over?"

Torrance moved a bit to the side as Leo sat with her. She took off the ear bud from her right ear, transferring it to the left, and offered the left ear bud to him.

"I haven't seen this in a while," Leo said, sitting the bowl of popcorn in between them then plugging in the ear bud. "What season are you on?"

"Seven," Torrance answered.

"Did I miss a lot?" Leo asked, scooping a handful of the snack into his mouth as he examined the scene. "I mush' have. Lash epi'shode I shaw, Anna wash wi' that Laurensh guy at the altar."

"That was a while back. Anna Henry did not marry Laurence Swanson because she uncovered that her mother had, basically, been paying him to show her false affection so she wouldn't think to investigate into Guillermo Delgado's disappearance," Torrance summarized.

"I had a feeling she was," Leo said. He noticed Linux rising up from his spot for a bit, seemingly alert, his eyes searching into the darkness. When the dog did nothing else, Leo went back to watching. "Where was Guillermo? I thought he'd died?"

"At a hospital somewhere in the Bahamas. He was terribly hurt, and it took months for him to recover. He planned to come back to the Hacienda, but Miranda Reddy gave him the false information that Anna Henry was already married and was happy."

Leo frowned. "Miranda? Isn't that the girl with the crush on him?"

"Thus the false information."

Leo sighed. "Dang. I _did_ miss a lot," he said, grievously scooping another handful of popcorn into his mouth.

They sat in silence for a while, watching the main characters as they spilled their hearts out in a conversation at a stately library. Leo's eyes were mostly trained on the subtitles, a number of the Spanish words both registering and not quite registering to him. Meanwhile, Torrance's focus was mostly on the two characters, content on successfully understanding most of their conversation and filling in what she lacked with what their actions conveyed.

_"__Estás feliz?" _

_ "__Si. Si, mucho." _

Leo looked at Torrance thoughtfully. "You know, I've been thinking," he said. "You don't look like a Torrance."

Torrance looked up, her expression neutral, as the scene ended and changed into something less interesting. "What made you think of it?" she asked.

"Our run-in with that lady at the diner," Leo said. "I just realized that all the fake names I introduced you with seemed you except for your real name. It's not a bad thing! I'm not trying to say your name is not cool, which, really, it is." He shrugged. "You just don't look like it."

"What name goes best with me, then?" Torrance asked, inwardly finding the subject trivial.

Leo thought about it. "Heather. You honestly look like a Heather to me," he said. At that moment, he noticed Linux bolt up, his eyes determinedly fixed on the stairs leading to the entrance of the gallery. A low though still unsure growl came from the dog. Leo frowned at this. "Linux? What's the matter, boy?" he called to him.

Linux didn't look back at him but continued staring at the stairs.

"That's weird," Leo muttered. "I wonder what's wrong with him."

Torrance also examined the dog curiously, though she was not too worried, dismissing the reaction as a result of a pedestrian bravely wandering the streets outside.

"But yeah. Heather. Heather Carlisle. Heather _Marie_ Carlisle." Leo grinned superciliously. "Heather Marie Dav—"

"We had an agreement," Torrance pointed out.

Linux started barking threateningly.

Both Leo and Torrance looked up. "Linux?" Leo called out worriedly. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Linux barked two more times. Then, he stopped all of a sudden, turning his head to the side.

Although, the way his head angled bothered Leo since his pet looked like he was in pain.

"You don't seem like a Leo to me."

Leo looked back at Torrance, his worries momentarily forgotten. "Oh. I don't?"

"No. At least not initially," Torrance replied.

"Then what do I look like?" Leo grinned.

It was Torrance's turn to mull the question over. "Jason," she responded.

Contrary to her presupposition of his grin growing bigger as his curiosity and amusement increased, his expression shrank down, waning into a sad smile. "Really?" Leo asked.

"Yes," Torrance said factually, though she was troubled by his reaction.

Leo nodded. "That's good," he said after a comfortable pause. His eyes met Torrance's. "My dad's name was Jason. Or _is_ still, I think. Tenses are a little confusing in that area."

Torrance then regretted her version of a quip, especially as she saw how he brushed off the somber subject by joking about it. "I apologize for bringing it up," she admitted. "I didn't mean to be so callous about this."

Leo kept smiling, though it was complicated by the knitting of his eyebrows. "Wait. You really didn't know about my dad?" he asked. "You didn't read up on me or something before our first official meeting?"

"I did gather some information about you, but I've only gone as far back as two years ago," Torrance said. "I've only known Donald Davenport and Tasha Davenport as your parents."

Leo noted the information she gave, triumphant at having brought out an answer he needed from her, and decided to store it away for later. "Why just two years back?" he asked instead.

"Two years is sufficient. I don't go any further," Torrance said pragmatically. "This is the same for everybody."

"Aren't you worried about everything else that happened before that?" Leo asked. "My record could have shown me as a duplicitous jerk who cares about no one but myself because of my early family life. I could be a liability."

"Everything I need to know about the past, I could read from the present," Torrance said. "And from what I could see in the present, I do not find you a liability."

Leo chose to receive Torrance's factual comment as a compliment, and it elicited a goofy smile.

Just then, a bright flash pierced through the darkness, accompanying a mechanical click.

Leo and Torrance looked up, surprised. "What in the…?" Leo sought around in the dark unhappily.

Lights flooded the gallery as switches were turned on. The swift change in the room caused Torrance's features to wrinkle, her eyes momentarily shutting to block off the assaulting brightness. Leo, meanwhile, shielded his eyes with his forearm.

As the two adjusted soon after, both of them rising to their feet, alert, they beheld a small group of older men, each with intimidating stance, and a younger blonde man who appeared to be in his mid-20s. Standing in front of them was a teenage girl wearing a bright red coat, underneath of which were a white top with a ribbon and black skinny jeans. She was seemingly preoccupied with adjusting the mode dial on her camera.

Leo regarded her with curiosity and slight recognition. The shape of the girl's face and her dark hair, though now streaked with highlights, struck him as something very familiar.

Torrance, however, knew just who she was and was quite displeased by her presence in the gallery. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her tone that leaned into something dark a first to Leo's ears. "We are not supposed to meet until later."

The girl looked up with a smile, but Leo wasn't entirely sure if it was sincere. "I couldn't wait. I haven't seen you in a while so I decided to drop by," she said. She gave the place a look over. "Plus, I really wanted to see your place, Tory."

Torrance stared at her unhappily.

Leo was set to ask who the girl was and what she was doing there when he noticed the blonde man behind the girl pressing steadily on a device that he easily recognized. He looked back at Linux, who was now whining lightly as he backed away from them, and this reaffirmed his suspicion: an ultrasonic dog deterrent. "Stop that!" Leo demanded angrily as he advanced towards the man. Torrance, foreseeing what his action would cause, blocked him with her arm. "You're hurting my dog!"

The girl scanned the dog with distaste. "Hm. I don't like dogs," she commented.

Torrance glared at her.

The girl caught this. She rolled her eyes. "Fine," she said. "Hold your dog back, and we'll stop it."

Though still fuming, Leo did what she asked, walking over to Linux and holding onto his collar.

When the blonde man thought it secure, he released the button.

The girl turned to Leo. "So. You're the infamous Leo Dooley, huh?" she said. "I've heard many things about you."

"I can't say I had the displeasure of knowing you," Leo answered pointedly, petting Linux consolingly.

The girl looked back at Torrance and then to him. "Tory! I can't believe you did that!" she said. "You didn't tell him."

When Leo looked back at Torrance questioningly, all he saw was disappointment and wariness as she stared at the girl. There was also an air of shame lingering around, although who she was ashamed of he didn't know.

"It was not important," Torrance answered.

"Well, obviously now it is," the girl said.

Leo, confident that Linux wouldn't do anything that could get them in more trouble, stood up. "Tor. Who's this girl?" he asked.

Torrance hesitated at first. Then, she answered. "She's the person I was going to meet with tonight," she said. "She's my contact."

Leo darted the girl a shocked look. "She's the bad news hacker?" he asked.

Torrance nodded in defeat.

The girl, thoroughly amused with his response, walked over to him with the same half-smirk, half-smile. She held out a gloved hand to Leo.

Torrance quietly exhausted a self-deprecating sigh. "Leo Dooley, this is SK," she introduced. "SK, Leo Dooley."

Leo frowned as he shook her hand. "SK?" he asked.

"Sketches," the girl said. "It's what my closest friends call me."

_Sketches._ Memories of a sketch pad and multiple artistic renderings flickered quickly in his head, and his recognition of who she was became full. His frown cleared as he stared at her. "You're…" he began but didn't finish.

"Jessi Evelyn Nash," she supplemented. Her smile widened. "I heard you died six months ago. How's that going for you?"

* * *

_to be continued._


	9. Nine

_Many thanks to xxWasabiWarriorAlertxx, the-amateur-with-an-idea, LabGirl2001, AllAmericanSlurp, Lady Cougar-Trombone, PhoenixRisingFromtheFire and 88keys for your reviews!_

_Oh, one more thing: I caught some typos and mistakes in Chapter Eight the day after I posted it and so had corrected them. :)_

* * *

_Nine._

The shift in the way Torrance acted towards him the next morning was, to say the least, painfully obvious to Leo—and he neither understood it nor favored it. For one, she seemed to be upset with him. Their breakfast at the gallery had gone by wordlessly, which was not truly rare as she had never really been too fond of early morning conversations even before. However, the anger and disappointment that he read in her demeanor throughout told him that something was amiss. While they were cleaning up, he intended to ask her what her plan was for the day, just to test out whether the ill-feeling he was getting from her had any basis, but she beat him to it by telling him how, at ten o'clock that morning, they were to appear in Jessi's apartment somewhere in upper Manhattan.

The distant and coldly succinct way she informed him was enough to reaffirm his suspicions.

It confused him. He tried to go over his memory of what had happened the night prior to see what he had done to make her more aloof. After five tries, he came up with nothing. For some time, he wondered if it was just his imagination, but one look at Linux, the dog tilting its head questioningly at him after Torrance briskly walked past him, and he knew that the climate in their temporary living quarters had definitely changed.

Walking out of the gallery, Leo braved to ask directly from the source why things were so as she unlocked the doors to the truck.

"It would be best if you stay back today, Leo Dooley," Torrance answered him, not once looking at him. "It will go by faster if you don't offer any help and complicate matters."

He and Torrance had not been friends for very long, but he had to admit that her implications slightly stung.

He observed more evidence of this unexplained schism as they traveled to the apartment. Torrance used to talk to him as she drove—not much, just a little—and she leaned a few inches closer to him as they traveled. But, that morning, all of that did not exist. She said nothing, her expressions saying less. He would even dare to venture that she seemed to lean away from him.

This puzzled him deeply. He had never seen her this way before, even in that first day they met.

The answer, although, slowly became apparent to him as he stood in the middle of Jessi's apartment, watching the activity of connecting wires and rebooting multiple computer systems under the boundless light coming in from the tinted wall-to-wall windows.

As per Torrance's request, he did absolutely nothing to help. It nearly killed him to watch the faulty attempts of the three men who he now knew as Jessi's bodyguards. They were connecting wrong plugs to wrong dockets, which was making the process unbearably longer.

To make it worse, the glare they were shooting his way as they blamed their mistakes to his presence seemed to have become an interesting spectacle in Jessi's eyes as she sat in her swivel chair like a princess watching a stuttering idiotic stable boy.

"Move," one of the men ordered him sternly, bumping him out of the way as he connected a blue cord to a green docket.

Leo moved, the poor treatment not sitting very well with him. He looked up at Torrance for any glance, any calming gestures to get rid of the anger building in him.

Nothing. She even appeared to agree with them, that he was a nuisance more than anything else.

Jessi watched him with a smile, which Leo also now understood as something far from innocent and harmless. Her arms crossed and leaning back on her rather expensive leather swivel chair, she glanced at the screen and then back at Leo. "Try it again. It didn't connect," she instructed the rude bodyguard.

The man complied, taking the cord off and then scanning the columns of sockets at the back of the second CPU for the correct one.

When it became apparent that neither he nor the other two had any clues on how to resolve the issue, Leo stepped in impatiently in front of them, grabbing the cords away. It took one scan of the dockets, a quick review of the cords' functions, and a few seconds after he was off unplugging, adjusting, re-plugging and tightening all the necessities of a seemingly complex but rather simple system.

After he was done, he looked up at Jessi and Torrance, both of whom were the only people sitting in front of the computer.

Torrance looked disappointed.

Jessi, on the other hand, looked amused. She clicked on an icon in the screen, expanding it with her fingers, and then typed in a few commands. As a result came up on the screen, she looked back at him with the same dishonest smile. "Not bad, Script Kiddie," she said.

The label didn't sit too well with Leo either, just like it hadn't the night prior.

Script kiddie. She was calling him an unexperienced hacker who was not quite as intelligible.

Still, it was easy for him to shrug it off. He knew none of her claims were true and was only said to downgrade him.

However, when Jessi checked the third screen, something came up and caused her demeaning smile to widen. "You could do much better," she said. "My locator's now offline. You switched out the Ethernet."

Leo glanced at the third CPU and saw his mistake.

The humiliation he felt as everybody stared, most of those deridingly, was lost on him as he stared at Torrance. He sought for any defensive act from her, something to let him know that even through all the oddities of the day so far, she still had his back, but he was rewarded with nothing. Her brows only wrinkled slightly, and though her eyes were softer and forgiving, her words sorely lacked the support he needed. "Perhaps it would be better if you sit by the kitchen and wait for me for the meantime," she suggested.

It stunned him, and for a moment he stood there, unsure whether he heard her correctly.

The resolute expression on Torrance's face said nothing otherwise.

It hit Leo at that moment that he was possibly finally seeing how Torrance really thought of him. The disappointment since Jessi met him last night, the aversion, the discomfort—it made sense, and he felt quite stupid and embarrassed for only realizing that at that moment, in front of all those people who already thought less of him.

Mechanically doing what he was told, Leo turned around and headed for the chair by the bar.

Jessi casted an entertained smile towards him as he looked away.

Torrance, meanwhile, did her best to contain the emotions that desired to come out of her. What she had done was what needed to be done, and it would only be a waste to regret it at the moment.

Jessi looked up at her after one of her bodyguards adjusted something at the back of the CPU. "We're on, Tory," she said. "Who did you want to look for?"

"Douglas Davenport," Torrance answered. She turned towards the first computer then plugged in a USB. She opened the only program installed in it. A map of the globe appeared on the screen. She clicked on the top western quadrant. A red outline of the United States, divided into its sections, appeared. "What do you know about him?"

Jessi's bottom lip pushed up as her eyebrows rose. "What do you want to know? I could tell you a lot," she said.

"His whereabouts," Torrance specified.

Jessi smirked. "Dead," she said. "Apparently, about seventeen years ago, his older brother kicked him out of Davenport Industries just as they're developing some state of the art technology. Bank account got frozen, and he was banished out of the company's labs. I heard there was even some kind of restraining order against him." She smiled. "Guy was probably very depressed so… Yeah. He offed himself."

"Inaccurate," Torrance declared as she checked the results coming up on the second computer.

"Inaccurate?" Jessi repeated, her smirk widening.

"Douglas Davenport is alive."

"Huh," Jessi said, mulling over the information. She pulled up to the third computer before she began typing. "Why the interest on him?"

"A client asked me to keep an eye out for him," Torrance said as a list came up on the first screen.

Jessi smirked as a prospect came to view. "Bounty?"

"Irrelevant," Torrance said.

Jessi didn't push, knowing that Torrance would never feel obligated to explain further if she didn't want to. Still, she couldn't resist. "It must be an important client for you to cash in a huge favor," she said. She frowned playfully. "You _are_ cashing in on a favor, right?"

Torrance looked back at her plainly though still pointedly. "Which of the twelve significant favors you owe me would you like to count this as?" she asked.

Jessi rolled her eyes. "Fine. I get it. No more counting," she said. She nodded at the screen in front of Torrance. "Are those the perimeters?"

"More or less," Torrance answered. "I suspect he'd been trying to gain access to the company, or at least to Donald Davenport's home system, so I searched for points with the highest connectivity. I've eliminated a number of them, and these are the only ones remaining."

Jessi looked the program over, particularly the nine results that it had. "Impressive program, Tory," she said. "You made it yourself?"

The clicking of several keys was the only respond she got.

"I could use something like this," Jessi noted. "You'll give me a copy, won't you?"

"We're wasting much time with idle chat, Jessi," Torrance said. "I came to you because I know your system covers a wider scope and it can search through it quicker."

Jessi laughed. "Oh, you know you could have something like this if you just let me introduce you to my employers," she said. "I told you, I'm even willing to split things with you fifty-fifty."

"I will not change my mind," Torrance said.

Jessi's grin shrank into her usual smirk. "Did you set up any traps? Worms, drones…?"

"No," Torrance said.

Jessi typed in commands on the third computer. "Really? I thought you would have tried something like that by now, because that would have been a smart thing to do," she said absently. "What about Script Kiddie? Any time his _brilliant_ mind came up with anything like that?"

Torrance made it a point not to look at anywhere else but the computer screen.

"Alright. I can search through Douglas Davenport's e-mail account for any important information," Jessi said, eyeing disinterestedly the e-mail page she easily hacked into. "You can tap into Davenport Industries' system and monitor the incoming log if you want. You're much better at infiltrating top-level security places anyways."

Torrance breezed past the task she had at hand. It would not have been impossible with the equipment she had in her possession, but with Jessi's frequently updated and more state of the art computers, it was easier and quicker. "I'm in," she announced quietly a minute later.

"Good. I'm starting to get bored with this guy's life. No wonder he wanted to drop off the face of the earth," Jessi said. She swiveled her chair around to face the screen Torrance was focused on. She read through the steady downward flow of information, a stiff waterfall of codes, tasks and statuses, filling up the screen. She smirked when a few things caught her attention. "Home system, huh?" she said. "I hope Donald Davenport didn't create that himself, because that would be embarrassing. It's so vulnerable, even a fifteen year-old like me can hack it."

Torrance ignored her gloating. She tapped on a program instead then started to run it.

"Mm. Three supercomputers, though?" Jessi drew closer to the screen. She darted a glance at Leo. "I guess Daddy's been keeping much from the rest of the world." Her fingers flew to different keys at a rapid pace, and soon it cued several red boxes to highlight different rows. "Four highest. Cape Canaveral, Florida. Austin, Texas. Goshen, Virginia…and Hartford, Connecticut."

"Texas just seems to be another branch, one in the process of revival. All of the devices connected are from Davenport Industries," Torrance declared as she took off Texas from the search. "Cape Canaveral, I suspect, may have nothing to do with the company."

"Just someone or some _ones_ who may just _want_ to have something to do with it," Jessi said as she began snooping around the remaining two. "I can't blame them. Big company, big money."

It took Torrance a bit longer to get through to the person—or persons—in Florida, but once she was in, she could not be kicked out. Resistance was evident on the other side of the line. Firewall after firewall was put before her in a terribly futile attempt to prevent her from coming in any further. Yet, she was too skilled and too used to amateurish blocks like that for any of the opponent's side's attempts to come into any success.

Still, she was able to gather much that whoever was on the other side, he or she was trying to get into the Davenport's mainframe without permission.

After a minute of intimidation, the person backed off, holing away in the obscurity of the fast traffic of cyberspace.

Satisfied, Torrance blocked off the intruder and set up traps for the next return. If he or she bit into it, the company owner would be quickly alerted and would be led to the person.

A person who, she assessed thankfully, was not Douglas.

While she was closing up, the computer Jessi worked at beeped thrice. Torrance turned towards her, and in the girl's face she saw a panicked frown that cleared more and more as the perceived threat intensified.

"They're counterattacking, Torrance," Jessi said, her tone with a smidgen of desperation as her hand worked swiftly across her keyboard.

Torrance immediately jumped into action to aid her. "Where?" she asked calmly, her focus on the task unfaltering.

The progression of the other side into Jessi's system advanced too quickly.

"Goshen," Jessi replied tensely as she watched a few of her important files become recklessly exposed to the unknown source. She slammed her hands angrily against the computer table, startling a number of her bodyguards. "None of this is working, Torrance!" she declared angrily. "They're getting into my files!"

"You're not doing us any favors by panicking, Jessi," Torrance chided. Though, inwardly, she was getting very concerned. This person was nothing like the intruder from Florida. He was better and was not like anyone she had encountered before. "He knows what he's doing," she muttered to herself.

"He's going to locate me anywhere I go if we don't—Torrance!"

Torrance ignored Jessi's angry demands and kept working, but she was running out of ideas on what to do.

Ninety-one percent of the files were opened.

Their location would be pinpointed in twelve seconds.

"Do something, you idiots!" Jessi yelled at her bodyguards.

The men awkwardly scrambled, moving like rusted robots towards the front of the computer desk for any assistance they could offer.

Torrance and Jessi tried to block the oncoming attack from the intruder, but complete infiltration was apparent in seven seconds.

Six.

Five.

Four.

Then, the screen went dark.

Jessi frowned at it, unsure whether what had taken place was an effect of the hacking. However, she saw that it wasn't only that computer that was turned off; all three CPUs, the speakers, the clock on the desk, and even the router were off.

When she and Torrance looked up, they saw that it had all been the result of Leo yanking off the power plugs from the socket. He also had in his left hand the router's and the Ethernet's disconnected cables, which had been an effective move that had saved them from becoming helpless preys to an unknown intruder.

This made Jessi angrier.

However, the sight worried Torrance, especially as she beheld the anger in Leo's eyes.

"Script kiddie, one. Blackbeard—zero," Leo declared.

Jessi fumed. "_Black. Hat_," she corrected him acridly.

Leo glared at her.

He was fully aware of the difference, and he didn't care.

Leo let go of the plugs and the cords. He turned to leave, but before he did he shot Torrance a look.

He strode out of the apartment, and soon Torrance was left with a phantom of that glance. It was fleeting, and necessity dictated that she not be affected, but she couldn't deny that it had forced her to confront the reality that, for the first time in months, she had truly disappointed him.

* * *

_to be continued._


	10. Ten

_Much thanks to these awesome four - LabGirl2001, Lady Cougar-Trombone, AllAmericanSlurp, and xxWasabiWarriorAlertxx - for the reviews! (X, I know I still owe you a reply!) I really appreciate it._

_Just a few warnings for this chapter before we begin. One of the characters will use an offensive term (not a curse, but still offensive). There are also a few themes that would be hinted at here, including child abuse and a relationship between a minor and someone older, that deserve caution even if they are just mentioned briefly._

_Other than that, all chapters, with the exception of one or two, from here on out are personal favorites._

* * *

_Ten. _

An affable waitress in her early fifties was standing beside Leo's table as Jessi walked up to the restaurant. Through the bright glare on the window from the ripe afternoon sun shining over Manhattan, she could make out the woman's fiery red hair and even warmer personality. She was leaning close to the booth where the boy sat, intently listening with a smile as he spoke something to her. She nodded with a chuckle, and then she tapped his shoulder heartily before she left.

Coming in through the door, Jessi observed from the dying friendly smile and the regeneration of that livid look on Leo's face as he glanced at her that he had been long aware of her forthcoming company and was none at all surprised by it.

Jessi sat down across from him at the booth with a half-smirk, half-smile on her lips. She watched him with amusement as he bluntly ignored her presence. He said nothing, only worked through a generous piece of cheesecake on his plate. What interested her further, however, was the lack of hostility in the air. Given, he was still upset, but he wasn't as unwelcoming as she primarily inferred he would be.

Still, it was clear that he wasn't willing to resort into any formalities any time soon.

"You don't seem like a guy who favors wasting any time when it comes to business, so I'll just come right out and say it," Jessi said, her smile never faltering. "I like what I see in you. You look like an amateur, but…" she shrugged, "you have a potential to be a pro. Especially if you keep making smart moves like that zombie drone you've set up in the e-mail you sent Douglas Davenport."

Leo broke off a piece from his dessert with his fork, hunching a bit towards it, before lifting it into his mouth. He leaned back, chewing, and then looked out of the window as if there was no one there with him.

Jessi chuckled. "Look. I can't say I blame you for being so ticked off. You got put into time-out in front of grown people, and that is embarrassing," she said. "But, you have to admit—you're as much to blame. You have a knack for getting yourself into those situations. You know, where people always put you in some place? It even looks like you like it." She stared at him. "Everything starts at home, they say."

Leo wiped off the sides of his mouth with the napkin from the table.

"I mean, it's always been like that so you really wouldn't know any better," Jessi persisted, examining the small menu in front of her. "_I_ personally don't; I've never had any siblings. Glad I didn't. It may not have been as bad if you're the oldest, but Adam's got that taken care of. Middle child, Bree. Middle _children_, actually, because Chase is in that mix, too, now that you're in the family. If you're the youngest, you just flat out don't have any say in anything. You can try to be in it, but when you're not as _talented_ as they are, all you get are handouts."

The clear shots, she expected to have some effect. However, it seemed like Torrance had taught the boy well as she couldn't detect the slightest hint of reaction from him.

"What are you in the team again?" Jessi shifted into the offensive. She sat up. "Mission Specialist? How is that anyways? Being the guy in the background?"

Nothing.

"The sidekick," Jessi tried again.

Leo checked his watched before cutting off another slice from the shrinking dessert.

"Fourth fiddle?"

Leo continued to chew.

Jessi's smile widened, her brows rising testily. "Token black kid?"

The silverware on Leo's hand fell noisily on the plate as irritation finally got the best of him. "You're ruining my cheesecake experience here, Blackbeard," he expressed exasperatedly. He glared at her steadily. "What do you want?"

"Commission," she answered honestly. "Like I said, you're good. You're skilled. If you pull off a good job, you'll make five figures quick. Do an outstanding job, and you can make six."

Leo chuckled incredulously, shaking his head. "You're impossible," he muttered to himself as he picked up his fork.

Jessi seemed to be more encouraged by his response. "Why not? It sounds like a pretty good deal, if you ask me," she said. "Oh, come on. Get real. You're not going to get that much money waiting on your siblings hand and foot. Nor would you get credit for it."

"Oh, yeah, like working for criminals and sickos is the best thing I could do with my life," Leo quipped sardonically. "Really, Blackbeard. That's a nice argument right there."

Jessi simply shrugged. "What does your intact morality mean to the world anyways?" she asked.

Leo stared at her. "Now I see why you don't have any friends," he commented. "And it actually explains why you're dating your bodyguard who's almost ten years older than you are—which, by the way, in case you neglected to find out about this, that's actually illegal. It might not hurt to remind Hadley Hayes Hunter right there that he could get incarcerated for even paying attention to you."

A smirk tugged at Jessi's lips. "You've been reading up on me," she said.

"I'm just returning a favor," Leo said. His eyes remained fixed on her, letting her know that she could not move him around with a flick of a finger like she did with her lackeys. He knew that was what she wanted to do, to manipulate him into doing something she wanted.

It was ironic, actually, how, above all, she was the one who was not giving him enough credit by failing to acknowledge that he had enough will to resist.

As he tried to look back on his plate, his eyes caught on something that he hadn't noticed there before. Due to Jessi's striped top that narrowed towards her neck, he was offered a clear sight of her shoulders. On the left, he saw a deep scar, the skin that slightly puckered up one shade lighter than the rest. It took on the shape of a thick twig, one that branched out into two less significant but hardly unnoticeable lines.

Jessi noticed his stare. She turned her head to where he looked at, and then smiled forebodingly.

Leo looked up, still upset but also apologetic. "Sorry," he told her sincerely.

"Oh. What, this?" Jessi laughed gutturally. "I wouldn't worry much. I'm not ashamed of it." Her fingers affectionately caressed the lines. "She nearly tore my arm off when she threw that can of beer at me. Well, when both of them did, really. I had to look away the whole time, while the doctors were putting in the stitches." She lifted her eyes up at Leo. "This scar reminds me why I do what I do."

Leo looked away. For a moment, the sympathy he felt for her as he looked into her life through her drawings flooded back to him. This affirmation of his older suspicions moved him to understand why she had set up the couple that had habitually harmed her.

Still, he didn't find it sufficient to justify the anger she seemed to take out on everybody else.

"The world out here is not a fairytale," Jessi said. "I have a feeling you know about that."

The reference to what happened to his father was not lost on Leo. Nonetheless, he disregarded it. She was still using it to her advantage, he knew, and that was unfair. "I don't forge alliances with people who hide who they are," he insisted.

"Who said anything about alliances? That's something that comes after you've learned to control people," Jessi said. "If you know how to do that, the rest just follows."

"And you would know something about that," Leo stated.

Jessi laughed. "Well, I've been told that I'm pretty good at it," she said. She sighed. "It's messy business, really. Corrupting someone, I mean. They resist, every time. But I can do it." She tilted her head playfully as she frowned. "I'm not as good a hacker as Torrance but I think, if I really felt like it?" she smiled at Leo, "I can mess with your siblings' heads, too. All I need is access to their chips, right? And I can make them dance whenever I want them to." She eyed him warningly. "I can change everyone, Leo. I can corrupt even you."

Leo maintained indifference even in the face of tangible danger. He couldn't let her—even himself—on that the additional threat to his siblings worried him. He scoffed instead. "That Krane guy really got you under his thumb, huh?" he said.

Jessi smiled. "You know about Victor Krane?" she asked. Leo didn't respond. She turned her attention back to the menu on the table. "Wouldn't hurt to know someone like him. He does good business. You might even want to consider working for him to bolster up your track for future employers."

"No, thanks. Working for my stepdad's done a lot of that for me," Leo said.

Jessi nodded. Leo thought that there must have been something in what he said that turned and clicked something within her, because all the malice that had always dominated her expression suddenly changed to hurt. It wasn't very obvious, but he had learned to read people enough to know that it was there, right in the undercurrents. She smirked, but instead of getting irritated, he felt pity for her. "You know he's never going to love you as much as he loves them, right?" she asked.

Leo thought about lying, but in the months that he was gone he had learned too to face the facts and deal with them when it was presented to him. So, he smiled a small but honest smile. "I do," he said. He turned to his right, to the side of the booth where his jacket was. He unzipped the pocket, and from there he drew out the tarnished and wrinkled piece of paper he retrieved from under the sink at the Nash's residence a lifetime ago. "By the way, I need to return this to you," he said, sliding it towards her.

Jessi picked it up. When she read it, along with the fresher inscription filling the once empty space, her smirk gradually diminished into nothing.

_Luke Berwyck_

**(904)831**_-8059 xt. 323_

"Where'd you find this?" she asked.

"Not important," Leo said. "But what's important is that he's looking for you. Been looking for you, actually. While you're out burning bridges, your biological dad's been building them just to find you."

Jessi stared at the paper, seemingly unsure how to approach it. "How'd you know?"

"I just asked around. It's amazing what you can do with the right resources," Leo said. He stood up then. He slipped on his jacket. "You should try using your connections for useful things sometimes. You might need the good that comes out of it." He smirked at her. "I know you think you're the Queen of Darkness, Blackbeard, but get real. The Underground is no fairytale either."

With that, he left.

Jessi sat at the booth, staring at the paper as the world melted into oblivion around her. She had forgotten about it and was quite glad that she had. It had been one of those beacons of hope that failed her, especially at that point in time when she desperately needed someone to rescue her out of the misery that surrounded her. The completion of this search would have been a wish come true three years ago; now, it was only a query that would continue to haunt her everywhere she would go.

She wondered if she should call the number, but then a seemingly more important question piqued her interest: how _did_ that boy find that piece of paper? If she was able to hide it successfully from those two horrid beings she had lived with without them finding it, how did he?

_Unless… _

The half-smile, half-smirk that frequented her lips came back upon it. Her eyes brightened. Of course. She was right about him. He might have thought it was all flattery, but her observations were true.

He was fit for business in the Underground.

She drew out her phone with a renewed sense of joy then pulled up her messages. She nestled closer to the warmth of the cushioned seats as she added six people from her contacts as recipients of a new message.

**09/26/14, 1:49 PM**

_Potential recruit. 16. M. Intermediate/Advanced computer skills. Advanced technological knowledge + capabilities._

She paused to think of additional information. When it came to her, her smile widened dangerously.

_Offers physical access to Davenport Industries. Bids? Y/N_

After she waved the waitress over, three text messages came through. Two N's.

One inquiry.

**From: J. Khan**

**09/26/14, 2:01 PM **

_What is the extent of access?_

She shrugged. She addressed it to the remaining four.

**09/26/14, 2:01 PM**

_Close to Donald Davenport without drawing suspicion._

She sent it.

It took a few minutes for the replies to come, so she spent that time looking over the menu. When her phone vibrated, she flipped it to face her.

Her smirk grew dim and lethal.

**From: V. Krane**

**09/26/14, 2:17 PM**

_Willing, unwilling?_

**09/26/14, 2:18 PM**

_Unwilling._

Her phone vibrated again soon after.

**From: V. Krane**

**09/26/14, 2:19 PM**

_Take him._

Jessi sighed contentedly. She went back to perusing the menu, now blatantly ignoring the few late takers texting her. "Like you ever had a choice in the first place," she muttered as she thought of Leo's rejection of her demands.

* * *

_to be continued._


	11. Eleven

_Early update! I figured I should do a double too, since we're going to have two new Lab Rats episodes this week alone. :)_

_Many, many thanks to LabGirl2001, AllAmericanSlurp, Lady Cougar-Trombone and xxWasabiWarriorAlertxx for the reviews! I will send out a personal reply to each of you as soon as I can._

_Just a quick note: the chapter image for Jessi is now posted on my profile._

* * *

_Eleven._

Central Park teemed with life as the afternoon carried on. Clusters of people—of family, of friends—were spread out across the greeneries, laughing, eating, chatting. There were a numbered few spending time with their pets, either walking or jogging along with them. Frisbees flew across the clearer air, the laughter from pet owners making everything warm and rich.

Despite this active mix of people, Torrance was able to locate Leo. He was near the neat row of trees at the east end of the park, looking ahead with a wide smile as he watched Linux speed towards him excitedly, a sizeable piece of tree debris fastened securely between the dog's teeth. She reached Leo just as he was retrieving the stick from the Linux's mouth and rewarding him with a rub behind the ears. She was moved to say something, to let him know she was there and that she wanted to talk, but she didn't. Instead, she remained standing, watching him and the dog, her lips unmoving as clashing words percolated to their boiling point in her mind.

Leo soon sensed someone's presence and so looked behind him. The smile on his face tightened, shrunk then vanished completely as memory of her earlier offense came back to mind. He looked back at Linux, petting the dog that was too preoccupied with nuzzling the stick. "What, you and your BFF stalking me now?" he asked sardonically.

"No," Torrance said simply, almost too quietly.

Leo stood up. He turned towards her with a glare, the kind that allowed Torrance insight to how her actions subsequently impacted their relationship. He waited for her to say what was in her mind, or, at least, what he rightfully thought she owed him. Yet, she didn't. She just stood there, staring at him with her brows wrinkled at their slightest, refusing to speak because, he supposed, she viewed things like this as irrelevant and unimportant. He shook his head in a manner that disappointment could only bring. Then, he started walking away, Linux in his trail.

Torrance watched their distance increase, the expanding proximity serving as a tightly wound string pulling out some word, any word, from her. "Wait," she managed to call after him.

Leo stopped. He swiveled halfway around.

"We must talk," Torrance said.

Leo laughed a humorless laugh. "No. No more talking," he said decisively. "You had plenty of chances and you just—" he pursed his lips as he sought to control the effects of rage from coming out of his mouth. He shook his head, his eyes darting briefly to the skies before resting back on her. "No, I think you've made your point very clear. I just wish you know how much the way you put it sucks."

"Are you upset because I have embarrassed you?" Torrance asked innocently.

"I'm upset because you don't trust me," Leo said truthfully.

This deeply perplexed Torrance. "Don't trust you?" she repeated. "I'm sorry, but I don't believe I agree."

"Oh, you don't? Then why did you practically discredit me in front of all those people who seemed like they just stepped out straight from a lineup?"

"Because I was making sure you don't get hurt," Torrance said calmly.

"Get hurt from what? Embarrassment?" Leo asked. "Well, I hate to tell you this, but that backfired big time."

"They cannot ever know everything about you," Torrance said solemnly, inwardly desperate for him to understand the seriousness of it all.

Leo, however, failed to comprehend her plea. A shadow of a broken smile came up on his lips. "Why? Because I'm not up to your standards?" he asked. Then, as the expression vanished, he muttered sadly, more to himself than to her, "If I'd known it'd be like this, I should have just stayed home. They all treat me this way anyways."

His words hit Torrance openly as if they were bullets. She opened her mouth to speak, but no consolation came out from it.

Realizing the faulty implications of what he said, Leo decidedly expounded further. "I want to save my family, Torrance," he said. "I did some of the stupidest things I could do just to get that chance, but…you're not letting me. I know you said this is my plan, but it's not. It's never been. I just assist you. And don't say it's not true, because I know you know it is."

So Torrance didn't. Although, it still frustrated her that she couldn't make him understand. "So what now?" she asked.

"I don't know, but I'm starting to have a hard time trusting you too," Leo said bluntly though not meanly. "There are many things you don't tell me, many things you don't want me asking about. You lead me to places and to people without any prior notice, which would be nice especially if you're dealing with a stalker like Blackbeard and her merry henchman. If you don't think I'm worthy to know things like those, how can you expect me to be okay with leaving the safety of the people I love in your hands?"

Wrinkles wrought Torrance's brows together, though it was out of wariness this time. "Stalk?" she repeated alertly. "Jessi and Hadley have been following you?"

"She's talked to me," Leo said slowly, reeling back a bit due to the odd turn in the conversation. He narrowed his eyes. "Out of everything I've said, _that's_ what you got?" he asked, frustrated.

The revelation frightened Torrance, and the realization of this slowly showed on her face.

Leo, however, completely missed the reaction. "And why are you suddenly surprised? You two are clearly in some odd, dark alliance together—"

"You do not understand the gravity of the situation," Torrance told him, her words clashing with his last three. "I was keeping you away from her for a reason."

"So, what, am I supposed to thank you?" Leo asked.

"You do not know Jessi Evelyn Nash as I do," Torrance said, almost as equally fired as he.

"Obviously," Leo said. "You've never bothered to tell me everything I need to know about her."

"Well, now I am," Torrance responded firmly. "The things that I do, they are not without reason. All I've done, I've done to protect you, Leo."

The solemnity of her expression sufficed to end the strain between them. However, what acted much quicker and stronger was that shift in her reference to him, and it took both of them by surprise. She had never referred to him on a first name basis. To Leo, it signified the truthfulness of what she said, for she had never in those six months done that most personal act. To Torrance, it was something frightening, for this unconscious slip marked something significant and dangerous.

She had drawn too close, and this was what would permanently set him into the road of ruin in the life that they lived.

Still, she owed him an explanation. Her most recent action would have to be addressed at a later time. "Jessi Evelyn Nash earns a living out of hacking," Torrance began to explain. "True, she's knowledgeable in that area and is skilled at it, but she's known best for supplying hackers to employers who need them."

"She's a recruiter, I know," Leo said, his tone much calmer.

Torrance shook her head. "No. I doubt you know the entirety of it," she said anxiously. "She marks potential recruits. If she believes that the person is exceptionally qualified, she would approach him or her. She always offers them a choice. If they agree, then they would be unknowingly bound to their employers until they see no more use in them. If they do not agree…"

Leo walked closer to her, slightly alarmed by her unwillingness to continue. "If they don't, then what?"

"I know you insist that she and I are the closest of friends, but we're not," Torrance said sadly. "I cannot ever be friends with someone who sells people, children, into a life they never want, who has so much blood in her hands and still sleep well at night."

"She's involved in human trafficking?" Leo asked.

Torrance nodded.

It took Leo some time to absorb the information. When images of possible outcomes flooded his mind, especially as he acknowledged how he fell on the latter of those two situations, residual frustration began to bubble up in him again. "How could you not let me know about this?" he asked. "You could have told me the night before!"

"I know," Torrance said. "I take responsibility in not making my warnings clearer, as you should for not listening to me, but this is the situation now, and you will have to trust me."

Leo scoffed, an incredulous grin pulling on his mouth.

Torrance took a deep breath. "If you can't find it anymore within you to rely on my trustworthiness," she said, "at least keep in mind my ability to pay back things to those whom I owe."

"Yeah, that's reassuring, especially considering that I'm the one who owes you so much money."

"You may owe me money," Torrance said, "but I owe you a life."

Leo's brows wrinkled in confusion. "What?" he asked.

"I do."

Leo thought back on all of those six months, through the weeks and the days they were together, but he came up with no evidence to her claim. He shook his head. "No, you don't."

"Yes. I do," Torrance said. She paused as she finally gathered together the answer to one of his undying questions. Then, she began. "I was travelling from place to place three years ago. I did so mostly because I was still on the run from the foster system. It had only been a year then since I escaped, and I know Ms. Till would still be looking for me. But for the most part, I did that because it availed me the freedom to establish myself as a hacker. Hacking was the only thing my last foster father taught me how to do which I could make a living out of. At that time, the money I was making was increasing because I've learned to go where people with my particular skills are needed. I traveled to Mission Creek to provide some surveillance around one of your stepfather's facilities—"

"You've hacked into Big D's company before?" Leo asked.

Torrance nodded with a repressed smile. "Yes. Your stepfather himself anonymously hired me to do it," she answered. "He suspected a few employees at the company retailer at the mall of stealing. He needed me to keep watch of the daily transactions, because he didn't trust his then accountant of doing an honest job."

"So you two have met."

"No. No meeting. It was strictly private business between two people who should and must never meet," Torrance said. "I stayed close, as that was one of the very few requirements, and that is when I met Gretchen Byers."

Leo thought about the familiar name. "Gretchen Byers?" he asked. "The woman at the bakery?"

Torrance nodded. "She came up to me on my second visit and asked me why I was cutting class," she remembered fondly. "I explained to her that I was not going to any school there. She saw my laptop, and then she went back to the kitchen. When she came back, she gave me a plate of cookies and a glass of milk. She said she gave those out to all hardworking students, even ones who take online classes." She smiled at the grass. "She was always very kind to me – asking me about my day, making sure I was well fed, and just taking interest in things I was interested in – that even if the task your stepfather had assigned to me was finished, I couldn't leave. She was the closest thing to a mother I had ever had.

"But after a while, I started to suffer financially, and I had to leave. I received a notice from an acquaintance in Tennessee who required help with a high-paying job, so I had to go. I still continued to watch over her. I cannot communicate with her at all, because that could pose a danger to her if I was ever to get discovered by the enemies I've made, so I had to rely on other means to see how she was doing," she said. "Then, after a few months, I read about her seizure at the park online, and how this boy called the ambulance for her after administering some first aid to help her." She looked up at him with a small but tremendously sincere smile. "You've always asked how I know you and why I was helping you," she said. "That is how, and that is why. I owe you a life."

Leo reflected on the sadder reality and thus refused her view of heroism. "You don't," he said. "You know what happened, and I wasn't there. She's still gone."

"You helped her when you could, and what others did or didn't do, I do not count against you," Torrance said. "I know you may not believe the things I tell you now, about Jessi, about New York, about me being truly sorry for not being wiser in my approach, but with Gretchen, with you—know that I can't lie about these things."

Leo found himself plagued with deciding how to take the things that she said. They were accurate, and he wanted to believe that they sounded true because they were true, but the seedling of doubt had long been planted, and its roots had gotten quite a strong hold on him.

Torrance saw this and felt desperation surge within her. "Please. You can't keep attacking me like this. I am not the enemy here," she said, hoping to reach his sense of reason for his own safety.

Leo stared at her, his brows still knitted. What she said replayed over and over again in his head, seeking to convince him to forgive her even if it was proving difficult.

Then, something clicked.

_You can't keep attacking me like this. I am not the enemy here._

Of course. He couldn't believe how he never thought of it before.

He looked at Torrance as the plan formed at the core of his mind. His first instinct was to tell her, but his misgivings when it came to her and her real priorities weighed down his tongue. "I need time to decide about that," he said instead. Then, he turned around and walked away.

Linux got up and watched Leo. The dog made a few steps towards the boy's direction, but then stopped. He turned around and faced Torrance, whining, seemingly not wanting to leave her by herself as protecting her was what Leo taught him to do. Yet, it was evident in the way he turned his head from her to him to her to him again that he desired to go after him.

"It's okay, Linux. You can go with him," Torrance said with a small smile, looking the dog straight in the eyes.

Linux kept his eyes on her, but when he discerned that she meant it, he started to run after Leo to catch up with him.

As the dog slowed down to a trot beside Leo, Torrance sighed. "Keep them away from him, Linux" she muttered. "Don't let them take him away."

* * *

_to be continued._


	12. Twelve

_Huge thank you to LabGirl2001, AllAmericanSlurp, Lady Cougar-Trombone, xxWasabiWarriorAlertxx, and 88keys for the reviews!_

* * *

_Twelve._

The car suffocated with dense silence as Jack Perry drove through the rather noisy traffic in Manhattan. As the car stopped behind a cab picking up three passengers, he stole an anxious glance towards his only daughter, who was leaning heavily towards the door, her eyes directed out to the tall towers outside that seemed to interest her more. He thought she would have at least been in a better mood than this. After all, he had just taken her out to eat before their travel to LaGuardia Airport for her flight back to California.

However, she seemed to have grown more distant, and it unsettled him.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay for the wedding?" he asked for what seemed like the twentieth time.

"Yes, I'm sure that no, I don't want to stay."

Jack eased his foot back into the gas as the cab finally pulled off. He sighed. "Kerry, you know you don't have to go," he said. "It would mean so much to your stepmother and I to have you there."

Kerry refused to look at him. "Dad, I agreed to come here because you said you wanted to see me, and Mom asked me to give you a chance," she said. "I did this for her. Now it's time I go back."

Jack said nothing. Then, remorsefully he admitted, "I know you're mad at me because of the divorce—"

"Well, that's not going to change anything anymore," Kerry muttered factually.

"I know you believe that I don't care about you, but I do," Jack insisted desperately. "You're my kid. I love you."

Kerry finally looked at him. "I know that, Dad," she said.

"Then why aren't you happy for me?"

"Because I can't."

Jack continued driving, while Kerry resumed her watch of the world outside. "I wish you'd tell me what's gone wrong," he said, hoping to prompt his daughter to speak the reason for her silence.

Kerry understood this but rejected any thoughts of compliance. She could openly tell him, she knew, she really could—but she didn't need to, and she didn't want to. Telling him would mean allowing him back into her life, and that was too much of a leverage to give someone who did not even think twice of hurting her and her mother before by abandoning them. Who knows what he'd do with information like that?

Plus, she didn't want to bring the answer to his request back to mind anymore. She actually felt embarrassed just recalling those times, especially within those first three months after the funeral, when her mother would walk in on her crying on her bed because something reminded her of him. Her mother, knowing exactly what she needed, would sit with her and hold her in a warm embrace, which would be enough to get her talking about what it was that time that triggered what she later referred to as 'the waterworks.'

She loved Leo. She really did. There had yet to be a day when she didn't miss him. Every morning at school, just before the bell rang, he would walk by her locker and wink at her just to mess with her. It irritated her to no end, since she had made it clear that she didn't favor displays like that. She even threatened to poke him in the eye if he didn't stop, but his only response was his batting of his eyelashes at her the next day, a huge grin present on his face.

She wanted to be mad, but she had ended up laughing about it (which earned her many odd stares in homeroom during their pop quiz that morning).

He always texted her, too, every afternoon, even when she wouldn't text him back. His messages were never intrusive; she knew he respected the distance she required. But he made it clear time and again that he was a good friend to her first, above anything else, and he was someone who cared about her.

Then he had to tell her that, page twenty-three.

It was contradictory, her reaction. She would hate him so much for saying that, but it would always set her off into tears because she wanted him to not be gone anymore and just be there, winking and teasing and texting and talking until she was driven out of her mind.

"Your stepmom said this would happen. That you would go through something like this."

Kerry looked back at her father. "Something like what?"

"Just this. Being unhappy," Jack said as Central Park loomed slowly in the distance. "Your mom told me about that boy."

Kerry sat up defensively. "'That boy' has a name," she said hostilely.

"Right. Sorry," Jack said. "What was it?"

Kerry stared at him. "Why? So Sherry can psychoanalyze me again?" she asked.

"Honey, she doesn't do that."

"Oh, really."

"She just wants to help you," Jack reasoned. "Look. She knows about your boyfriend dying, too, and she's really made me see how hard this is for you. You loved him, and losing him stings. She said this is to be expected, for you to project all your frustrations and anger on us because seeing us together, happy, reminds you of the relationship you could have had with him."

Kerry's features wrinkled in anger. "Where in the world did she get that from?" she asked.

"Your stepmother is a smart woman, and she knows these things," Jack answered with a smile. "She's one of the best child psychiatrists here in New York."

"I doubt that."

"But you know this is true," Jack insisted. "You're just in denial right now."

"Well, thank the geniuses on the bar who certified Sherry 'Husband-Stealing' Krauss for that faulty assessment!" Kerry said. She glared at him. "And you wonder why I don't want to stay with you."

"Now Kerry…"

"No. I'm really sorry that everything's ended up this way, for Mom, for me, for you. But I'm not gonna apologize for the things I've said, especially since she's not sorry for the things she's caused," Kerry said. "You cheated on Mom, Dad, with this woman. A woman who believes on stepping on other people to get what she wants, because she said that's what living means. Who believes everyone must be like her. But I'm not. I know you think I'm a messed up kid because I'm not polite or up to normal standards, and I'm not. I'm mean and impatient. But I'm not going to wreck a family just to get what I want." She reached down for her near empty backpack and placed it on her lap. "If you feel I've gone too far, it's okay. I can just catch a cab to the airport. Aunt Terry gave me some pocket money, and I think it should be enough."

Jack gently placed a hand on her shoulder as she moved to unbuckle her seatbelt. As they came to a stop, he turned to his daughter with an apologetic glance. "No, that's okay. I'll drop you off," he said.

Kerry frowned mildly at him as she sought for any hesitance in his action. She leaned back when she saw he was sincere.

"I'm sorry. I was the one who went too far," Jack said. "I didn't mean to hurt you, princess. I just…I guess I was trying to make a messed up situation better even when it can't happen."

Her father's acknowledgement of the reality as she saw it broke one of the barricades she reserved for him, and it moved Kerry to stay. She plopped her backpack down again, and then looked out the window. She watched as they drove past Central Park, as they drove through a stream of colors and life and people flowing steadily underneath the afternoon sun.

Jack smiled. "I think I remember his name now," he said.

"Whose name?" Kerry muttered as she noticed a Siberian husky sitting patiently by the sidewalk, his owner placing a leash on his collar. She could only see the owner's hands due to her view of him being blocked by a faint pink Malibu parked at a meter.

"Your guy," Jack said, slowly pulling into another stop. "Wasn't his name Leo?"

"Yeah," Kerry said, her eyes still on the dog.

The dog's owner stood up, his features fully coming into view. He looked around him, and then smiled at his pet.

Kerry's heart skipped when she recognized him. "Leo?" she spoke as she watched him walk away, absolute with her entire being, despite the minor changes in his features, that it was him.

"Yeah, that's it! Leo," Jack said, oblivious of his daughter's confused expression. "Now I can't remember. Was it Leo Davenport or Leo Dooley?"

Kerry, determined not to lose sight of him, unlocked the car then jumped out into the heavy traffic.

"Kerry!"

Kerry quickly charged forward, ignoring the horns blaring and the profanities being slung her way by enraged drivers. She dodged cars and pushed through people as the crowd thickened, he ebbing in and out of her sight. "Leo!" she yelled, catching many passersby by surprise. "Leo, wait!"

However, she soon lost him as more people merged into that crowd. She stopped, left feeling empty and disoriented.

Jack, who jumped out of the car reluctantly, rushed up to her. "Princess. What happened?" he asked, lightly panting.

Kerry turned to face him, her eyes wide and searching. "I saw him, Dad," she said, looking back into the sea of people for any sight of him.

"Saw who?"

"Leo," she said softly. She looked up at him. "I saw him, Dad. It was him. It was really him."

Jack stared at his daughter, and her confused expression wrought his heart painfully. He embraced her tightly, coming to face with the heavy blame that sat on his shoulders.

Kerry, on the other hand, came up at dead ends trying to make sense of why she would see the person she had lost and had longed for now alive, walking the streets thousands of miles away from home in a strange city.

* * *

_to be continued._


	13. Thirteen

_Early update, because the schedule's looking much busier this week._

_Thanks so much to LabGirl2001, Lady Cougar-Trombone, AllAmericanSlurp, xxWasabiWarriorAlertxx, and 88keys for your reviews! Also, thanks to the readers following and favoriting this little story of mine! _

* * *

_Thirteen._

"Okay. So H is…?"

"H… Hy-dro-gen?"

"Right! Okay. This one's a bit harder, but you know this. Mg."

Bree looked up from her phone just in time to see Adam's brows furrow as he worked out the question. He was currently stretched out on the sofa at the corner of the lab, his head on the arm rest, his back on Ayanna's lap. Ayanna had been quizzing him for the past hour in preparation for his test on the periodic table next week. Bree had been busy trying to surpass a level on the game in her phone, meanwhile, while Chase had been preoccupied with the John Grisham novel he picked up from his father's shelf last night.

Nonetheless, Adam's impressive streak when it came to answering correctly was not lost on both of them.

Ayanna peeked at Adam from behind the flash cards in her hands. She smiled. "Remember? You told me that this is easy because the letters sound out the first syllable of the element," she said.

Adam looked at her. "I did?" he asked.

"Yeah," Ayanna said. "Mg. Mag…?"

"Mag…" Adam mimicked as he thought. "Mag…Magne—Magnesium!"

"Alright!" Ayanna high-fived him. "See? I told you you're smart. I didn't even think about that syllable thing until you told me."

Adam grinned up at her.

Bree exchanged a knowing glance with Chase before turning her attention back to her phone. Adam and Ayanna's relationship still hadn't ceased to amaze her. They had been dating for roughly a year now, but both still seemed to be happy. Given, they had gone through quite a few challenges, which ranged from the shallowest reasons from forces without—namely, the 'traditional' students and some strangers at Mission Creek who made it a point to 'correctly educate' Adam about the uncomeliness of dating someone whose skin color differed from his (Adam almost always just stared at them like they had grown a second head)—to substantial battles from forces within. Yet, despite all the problems, especially after the loss they all suffered from, both continued to work hard in keeping their relationship intact.

Bree smiled. She supposed Adam's mature understanding of proper and decent relationships had a lot to do with it. It offered stability, which Ayanna confessed to her once that she needed.

Although, admittedly, they thought at one point that the two would have parted ways. Ayanna saw Adam use his bionics during a rescue mission two months ago. She had been one of the few people trapped in a horrible highway pile-up. While his younger siblings worked to get the others out, Adam located Ayanna in a semi-ring of burning vehicles and found that her ankle had been pinned by the car door. He successfully got her out and was confident that the cyber mask they were told to wear was safely concealing his identity away, but he neglected to notice that one side of the device had peeled off. When he lifted Ayanna up after carefully pulling off the door, she recognized him.

Their father had explained to the eldest that using the neuroscrambler was inevitable, but Adam begged for an hour with her to talk things out. After he was reluctantly granted the request, he visited Ayanna at her house where she was released some days from the hospital after the accident.

Up until that day, nobody else outside the family knew about their bionics and the lab besides Ayanna.

"Okay. This is harder," Ayanna said as she picked out another card. "Ag."

"Ag?"

Ayanna nodded, smiling widely. "Ag."

"Ag," Adam repeated. "Um…"

When Adam failed to give an answer after a minute had passed, Chase rolled his eyes. He closed the book in his hands with an exaggerated thump before declaring, "It's silver!"

Ayanna darted a surprised look at him. "Chase!" she said, her mouth agape but curled into a grin at the sides.

Chase frowned. "What? He's taking forever," he said, opening up the book again to where he had left off.

"But that was for Adam," Ayanna reasoned.

"Yeah." Adam sat up. "Why don't you get your own girlfriend to test you in the periodic table?"

Chase read intently. "Well, I'm working on it," he muttered.

Adam thought about it. Then, he grinned. "Oh, that's right! You've got a date with Ms. Pasadena tomorrow night, right?" he asked.

"Supposedly."

Bree looked up from her phone again. She narrowed her eyes at her little brother's rather indifferent attitude. "Supposedly?" she repeated. "And why do you look like Chess Club just rejected your application? I thought you said this girl's cute and smart?"

Chase continued reading. "Yeah." He turned the page. "But she hadn't been texting me back."

Adam and Ayanna exchanged glances.

Bree placed her phone down, clearly perceiving his disinterest as a mask to conceal something he left unspoken. "She hadn't been texting you back, and…?"

Chase looked up. "And…what."

"And there's something you're not telling us," Adam clarified.

Chase looked at both of his older siblings, blankly at first then uncomfortably.

Ayanna caught on to what it meant and made a move to leave. "I can go—"

"No, no. It's okay, Ayanna," Chase said, giving up on the ruse. He sighed. "You can be in on it."

Ayanna sat down, but she, like Adam and Bree, was moved to worry more.

Chase hesitated at first. "I called her last night to see if we're still meeting up," he said, "…and some guy answered her phone."

"Ooh," Adam expressed sympathetically.

"What?" Bree sat up, notably upset.

"Yeah," Chase said, looking down.

"Well, do you think she accidentally gave you a wrong phone number?" Ayanna asked.

"I thought about it," Chase said. "The guy did tell me that, but I don't think that's true. The first time she gave me her number, I texted her just to make sure it was hers. She was standing next to me, and she received it."

Ayanna nodded wordlessly, although she was growing more and more indignant against the girl in question.

Adam felt similarly. "Welp, we won't know until we check," he said. He stood up then headed towards the desk on the corner.

Chase frowned. "What are you doing?" he asked slowly.

"We're going to see if she's playing you, which I hope she's not," Adam said as he settled down on the leather swivel chair. He clicked on a button at the panel. "What's her number?"

"Adam. I'm not going to do that," Chase said. "You know how that would look like if she found out I'm spying on her?"

"You're not spying on her. I am," Adam said. "Look, little bro. As much as I'd love to see you find a girl, I don't want you to end up with someone who treats you like a replaceable option. I'm not going to have any of that." The desk beeped. He looked down on it. "Now, I think you should come here because I think I just did something that I should not have done."

As Chase stood up with a sigh, Bree's phone began ringing. Frowning at the screen, she saw the caller ID.

KP.

Bree glanced around to see if her brothers were paying any attention. Satisfied at seeing them preoccupied with the control desk, she answered her phone. "Hey," she greeted cheerfully yet nervously. "What's…up?"

_"__We're friends, aren't we?"_

"Um… Sure?" Bree answered carefully, her brows knitting at the absurd question. The mix of urgent, confused and upset tone that came with it—or, at least, that was restrained behind it—didn't escape her notice.

_"__And you would tell me if he's alive?"_ Kerry asked. _"Because if you've been hiding him for whatever dumb reason all these months—it's not funny."_

Bree sat up. "Wait. What are you talking about? Who's 'he'?" she asked.

"Caitlin having boy problems again?" Chase asked with a smirk.

Bree shot him a consolatory smile before straining to hear what Kerry had just said. "Who again?" she asked.

_"__Leo."_

Bree felt as if ice suddenly burst inside her ribs. "What?" she said.

_"__I saw him at Manhattan, on our way to the airport."_

"Are you… Is this a joke?" Bree asked, her tone rising. Unbeknownst to her, the other three had noticed her reaction and were regarding her curiously. "Why would you say something like that?"

_"__Because I saw him,"_ Kerry said firmly. _"And it's not just my imagination; he was there. There was a dog with him, and he was walking away from Central Park."_

Bree sighed, ridding herself of the unnecessary anger. "Look, maybe it's just someone who looks like him—"

_"__No. I've thought of this over and over, and I'm sure it was him." _

Bree leaned back slowly into her chair, feeling cold at the thought of the little brother she had lost.

_"__It_ was _Leo. Wasn't it?"_ Kerry asked.

"No," Bree responded silently. "It wasn't."

There was a pause.

Then, the call was cut off.

Bree turned the screen towards her, staring off into that empty space where the memory of her lost brother had reappeared then disappeared again.

Ayanna placed a hand on Bree's knee after she placed down the phone. "Are you okay?" she asked.

Bree braved up for a small smile. "Yeah," she answered.

"It wasn't Stephanie, was it?" Adam asked.

Bree shook her head. "No," she said. "It was just a, a friend. She just saw the guy she used to hang out with."

"Broke her heart, huh?" Chase asked understandingly.

"Yeah." Bree's smile dimmed. _He broke ours, too._ "Yeah, he did."

Donald came into the lab just as Bree finished speaking, his strides towards the main control panel long and urgent.

Ayanna sat up, alerted by his demeanor like the others. "Hi, Mr. Davenport," she greeted politely yet curiously.

Donald glanced back at her with a smile before resuming his work. "Hello, Ayanna," he said. He placed down the tablet in his hands at the corner of the panel, his brows knitting anxiously afterwards.

Bree frowned. "Is there anything wrong?" she asked, standing up to join him.

"If there is, just know…Chase did it," Adam said as he walked towards them.

Chase glared at him as he followed.

"Ayanna, would you mind giving us a minute?" Donald turned to the girl sitting at the sofa. "We just have to talk about something important."

Ayanna stood up. "Of course," she said. She gave Adam a warm smile, which he reciprocated, and then headed towards the tunnel for the stairs.

"What's going on, Mr. Davenport?" Chase asked after Ayanna was gone.

"I was just alerted that someone had broken into the system earlier," Donald explained, his eyes trained towards the panel as he accessed the data sent to him. He pulled it up to the larger screens.

"What did they want?" Bree asked. "Why didn't you know until now?"

Donald sighed. He placed his hands on his hips while looking at the affirmative evidence distraughtly. "The IT guys didn't call me until twenty minutes ago," he said absently.

"What? Why did it take them that long?" Chase asked.

"Because they didn't really know until half an hour ago."

Adam and Bree exchanged glances.

"Now, I don't know who did this, but they were pretty good," Donald continued. "These hackers came in quick then vanished in an instant. Twice. Covered their tracks well, too."

"Was the person trying to steal something from your company?" Bree asked.

Donald thought about it. He shook his head unsurely. "I don't know," he said. "It seems like the first time they got in, they were just looking for the activity going in and out." He pulled up a visual on the screen. "They used my system to bounce off to these four locations: Connecticut, Virginia, Texas then Florida. They just pretty much snooped around the branches in Connecticut and Texas, but they didn't seem to find what they were looking for, so they backed off." He clicked on a button, and it caused the markers on both states to vanish.

"What about Florida? Did they look in there too?" Chase asked.

"That's the weird part," Donald said. "I have a branch in Florida, but the one these hackers attacked was an unauthorized entity. It's the same one that had been lingering around, gathering information, we think. We've been trying to keep 'em out…"

"…then these hackers…kicked them out of your system?" Chase asked, puzzled.

Donald nodded. "And it looks like they walled them out so they can't come back for a time," he said.

"Competitors?" Bree asked.

"I've thought about it," Donald said morosely, "but it seems like these new guys were really just looking in on the activity."

There was a brief pause as they contemplated about the situation. Then, Bree noted, "You said twice."

Donald turned to her inquiringly.

"You said they came in, they went out—twice," she expounded. "They came back a second time."

Donald nodded. "They did," he said. "That is actually what worries me." He clicked on a button, this time eliminating the link to Florida. "The guys told me that the second break-in was centralized to the one in our house."

Adam frowned. "They're trying to access Eddy?" he asked.

"No." Donald looked up, his features seemingly aged with pallor. "They accessed the three of you, specifically the codes for your Triton apps."

Silence befell the three as varying degrees of fear blossomed poisonously within each one of them.

Hearing the implied consequences voiced out of him sickened Donald, but he resolved to restrain any instinctive reaction to make way for a viable and wiser solution. "The guys offered to come in and help, but I told them I'd handle it," he said. "So far, all I've come up with is that there were some similarities on the first group and this second one. I'm guessing that they're either the same group, were in the same group, or at least were in the same area."

"What, so is it… Do you think it's Douglas?" Bree asked.

"No," Chase brooded. "He wouldn't need to hack in for the codes. He's the programmer, so he should already know it."

"Chase is right," Donald said. "As much as I'm hoping and wishing that it's him, I don't think that's the case. Which is bad, because that means that the other people who accessed it now have a copy of it and can use it however they want."

"Wait. So what are we going to do?" Adam asked.

"Calm down. We should be fine," Donald said reassuringly to his three children. "I think it would be best if we take out your chips for the night. I'll closely monitor the activities in them to see if they would try to put the app to use. More than likely, they don't even know what it's really for."

"Okay. Then what?" Chase asked.

"Then we locate them," Donald said. "We have to find them, find the copy, and then destroy it."

"But I thought you said you can't locate where they are," Adam pointed out.

"From our point, no," Donald said. "But I'm thinking that a new perspective can help us pinpoint them." He nodded towards the remaining marker highlighted on the screen. "I'm sending you guys to Goshen, Virginia tomorrow. That's where the first group bounced off to then vanished. I've already checked the place out. It's higher up in the mountain, and from satellite view it looks like an abandoned facility deep in there."

"But, what if Douglas is waiting for us there?" Bree asked quietly.

Donald opened his mouth to respond, but Chase's response, alarmingly dark and deep-seated, came first. "Good," he said. "The two of us have got a few things to talk about."

Adam frowned. "What do you mean?" he asked carefully.

Chase looked up at him, and it was then they saw the long-hidden spite bubbling from somewhere within. "Nothing," he said, walking away towards his capsule. "Just tired of him, that's all."

"Chase," Donald began, worried by the youngest boy's behavior.

"Don't worry, Mr. Davenport." Chase then sighed apologetically. "I'll make sure to remain objective during the mission, even if we do find him."

Bree regarded Chase anxiously as the glass to their capsules slid close around them. Like her father, she felt compelled to reason with him more but soon hesitantly abandoned the idea. She looked up, aligning her chip with the extractor positioned perfectly behind her neck.

It was in this time that she caught the soft but meaningful frown directed to her by her father.

_Make sure your brother doesn't do anything that we'd all regret._

Bree looked away. Of course, she would do everything in her power to be a sense of reason for Chase to protect him; that was always a promise she would not mind making for her brothers. Yet, she felt somewhat guilty, especially considering her judgment that was somewhat tilted by her own hunt for justice for such a great loss inflicted on them.

Her father, Adam, and she knew about the covert activity Chase had been preoccupied with for the past few months. They knew he was looking around, examining the facts, abolishing inane 'possibilities,' and repeating the process over and over again to deduce who had been responsible for the untimely death of their loved one. They never told him they knew, though. They understood he needed the seclusion, needed the answers to grow and thrive within the palms of his hands without anybody else poking and prodding his accomplishments. It was how he coped with his grief, and they dared never to step in the way of that.

But now she beheld in front of her the consequence of stepping back too far. Chase had grown angry, angry towards the person who they knew, without a doubt, triggered the fall of each thing they held dear. Her little brother was a fair person and had always known how to keep his perspective as straight as his imperfect humanness could allow, and to see him in this strange state truly worried her.

The problem was that it didn't surprise her. Worse still, she didn't object to his reaction as she should. Perhaps it was because she was angry, too. Or maybe, she was just empathetic towards him, which, in all honesty, was more likely.

"Okay. You guys are free to go," Donald said after the extractor finished its job. He stepped closer to their capsules when these hissed open, collecting the chips as Adam then Chase passed by him. "Please tell Tasha I'll be upstairs to help her with dinner in half an hour."

Chase nodded. "I'll go tell her," he said. Then, he headed towards the elevator.

"Can Ayanna stay for dinner?" Adam asked hopefully.

"Sure," Donald said.

With that, Adam jogged after Chase, jumping into the elevator just before it closed.

Donald watched his sons for a while before turning to the only child left with him in the lab. "Bree?"

Bree held up her chip with a smile.

Donald smiled back, gesturing for it by lifting up his opened hand.

Bree placed it on his palm with a weak grin.

"Anything you need to tell me about this?" Donald asked.

"New ability," Bree simply said.

"Good. I'm glad. Do you like it?"

"Maybe once I learn how to use it properly."

"You will," Donald said. "It'll work to your advantage."

"I hope so," she said. She trailed behind him as he made his way up to the main control panel. "What time do we start getting ready tomorrow?"

"Six," Donald said as he deposited their chips into surrogate dockets. "We need all the time we can get."

Bree nodded. "Okay," she said then made a move to follow her siblings upstairs.

"Hey."

Bree turned around, halfway to the elevator.

"Chase…"

Bree nodded again. "I will," she said. "I'll make sure to remind Adam too."

Donald smiled. He hesitated before he spoke again. "How are you holding up?"

It took her some time to gather the honest answer. "Fine," she said.

"You sure?"

"Yeah," she said. "From this point, I know things could only get better."

She wondered if she had told her father a lie as the words came out of her mouth.

Strangely enough, as she thought about that afternoon, their family dinner in a few hours and what could happen tomorrow, Bree found herself deciding that she had not.

* * *

_to be continued._


	14. Fourteen

_Huge thanks to AllAmericanSlurp, LabGirl2001, and Lady Cougar-Trombone for leaving reviews last chapter!_

_Okay, I have bad news and good news. Bad news is, we've only just passed the halfway point of the story last chapter. Good news is, there will be a torrential downpour of updates these next three weeks. It's relatively torrential anyways, compared to my normal rate._

_By December, this story should be completed. :)_

_Short chapter, which I hope everyone enjoys._

* * *

_Fourteen._

Leo covered his mouth with the back of his hand as a yawn escaped from him. After it had come to pass, he blinked hard, his eyes slightly watering as he refocused them towards the slew of codes sitting idly on the screen. He had been at that same task for a few hours now. The world outside had grown dark since he began sometime after he came back to the gallery, and truth be told he was growing physically and mentally tired. Nonetheless, he steadily combatted the desire to turn in and sleep the night off because he knew finishing this program was very important.

It was the only solution to their problem now. He didn't know how sturdy and enduring it would be, but he had a good feeling about it.

It had to work. It just had to. That was the best he could come up with on his own, and it was the only resort he had. He was tempted to ask Torrance to look over the program he had created—to check for any faults, to close any possible loopholes, to raise its quality to the highest caliber—but he resisted. He was still confused on how to feel about her. He was still hurt by her actions at Jessi's apartment, but he was also grateful about her decision to finally answer his longstanding question even with the price of allowing him into something that was truly personal for her. He still found it hard to trust her because of all the secrecy, but he found it harder not to have any confidence in her sincerity even if it might lead him to another disappointment.

He decided that sorting all of those things out only took time, which he needed and could not afford to waste. So for now, he had to rely on his own abilities.

Another reason why he desperately wished for this to work was because of what he had to do just to put it together. As he acquired more hacking skills through all of those weeks, _months_, of Torrance's mentoring, he told himself that no matter what happened, he should never give into the temptation of breaking into any of his stepfather's files, no matter how least or how most intrusive the information would be. He also resolved to stay clear of Adam's, Bree's and Chase's chips, especially after he was taught advanced techniques on how to encrypt, decrypt and access things of the like. He knew how much he valued their freedom. It had been something they constantly fought for especially after discovering Douglas' capability of violently ripping it away from them with just one click. It was something he wanted them to have, too.

Perhaps that was what raised the stakes higher earlier, when he risked betraying their trust, risked the path of hypocrisy, by hacking into the system in their house.

Since he wasn't as skilled as Torrance, it took him longer to bypass many blocks, making him feel guiltier as time seemed to drag on infinitely. Once he got in, he headed straight for what he needed: the entire copy of the Triton app embedded in his siblings' chips. Remorse crushed him under its merciless claws, putting more and more unbearable pressure on him as he downloaded the program onto a new flash drive. While he watched the progress, a rapid string of sorry's came out from under his breath, especially as he thought of his siblings carrying on in their day, not knowing that he had broken his obligation as their brother to never take what was not his.

It almost came as a relief when, in the middle of it all, he noticed that someone from the other side was fighting back. This had somewhat offset the self-deprecation he was feeling. Although he did not necessarily want to, he did have to hold the person off until the download was complete. After all, even though he did not want the program mudding his own hands, he still needed it to save his family.

The process took long, and the battle took longer. He discovered soon after that the knight on the defensive was someone from Davenport Industries. He had smirked then, because he knew who exactly the person was—and it made him feel uncertain knowing fully the man's way of approach on attacks like that.

Atkin Forge had been Davenport Industries' longtime head computer geek (his own words, not anyone else's). Leo had always known him to be nice and rarely short of temper. He had a big puff of curly dark hair, which only emphasized his short stature and slight bulkiness. A smile was always attached to his lips, much like how his thin-rimmed circular glasses were always attached close to his eyes. Unlike many of the employees who politely brushed him off every time he and his mother came over to the office to visit, Atkin, when he wasn't busy, made sure that he would feel welcome. Atkin would ask him about the ongoing basketball matches (video games later on, after they both confessed their mutual dislike of sports) and would actually teach him some trick of the trade in computer programming.

Leo felt bad going against one of his former mentors that way. He felt worse when he actually won, finishing off the download and never giving him any possible chance of tracing his location or of counterattacking.

Not allowing any hesitation to hold him back, Leo immediately got started on reading the program for the app. He had gotten both, the original and the tampered one, the one his stepfather encrypted and the one Douglas later decrypted. He deeply studied both in an attempt to find that platinum needle in a silver haystack. He needed that one common thing in both versions, that one element that could never be absent from the app no matter how much the creator of that program contorted it.

However, despite the hours he had already spent on it, he had yet to find it.

Leo groaned aloud in frustration, unintentionally startling the dog that had been keeping watch by the stairs for him. "Sorry, Linux," he told his pet as it looked back at him attentively. He sighed and then ran his hands down his face. "I just don't…" he sighed again, "I really wish I could be as smart as Chase or Torrance or Big D right now. I don't know how I can do this."

Linux stared at him. He then instinctively walked towards Leo before looking at him warmly with his wolfish, icy blue eyes.

Leo smiled. He petted Linux thoughtfully as the dog sidled closer to him. He chuckled when Linux licked his face. "You know, I think you'll like them," he told his dog. "Mom's not really the type to keep pets, but she's okay with them. Big D's pretty much the same, but I think he had a dog growing up so he might be a bit more lenient. I think Adam, Bree and Chase will like you, especially Adam. He's always wanted dogs."

Linux never broke eye contact with him as he spoke, listening intently on the boy's every word.

Leo's smile shrunk, but the fire it reignited within increasingly gained momentum and intensity. "Okay, bud," he told Linux. "I think both of us should get back to work."

The dog stared at him for a few more seconds before trotting back to his spot by the stairs.

Meanwhile, Leo reached for the bottle of antiseptic alcohol sitting nearby, still obligating himself to follow the rules, and filled his hand with the liquid. He turned his head away as the strong scent burst through the air as he rubbed it around his hands. After swatting off the noxious fumes, he resumed his work with renewed zeal. "Alright," he muttered to himself as he pulled up a new antivirus program from another flash drive. "Let's do this thing."

* * *

_to be contiued._


	15. Fifteen

_Much thanks to AllAmericanSlurp, LabGirl2001, xxWasabiWarriorAlertxx, and Lady Cougar-Trombone for your reviews!_

* * *

_Fifteen._

Torrance watched wordlessly as their waitress came back to their table with a huge grin and the tall glass of milkshake that Jessi ordered. The repressed intensity in her glare was only broken when the woman turned to her, asking her if she wanted anything else from the menu. A small, tight smile came up on her face as she shook her head. The waitress said okay, and then left. When she was gone, Torrance turned her attention back to Jessi who was sipping her beverage through a straw, smirking in amusement as she watched her friend.

The restaurant was anything but silent, especially with the clinks of the dinnerware, the laughs of the lively evening customers, and the soft music playing in the background—but all Torrance could hear were the thoughts in her head, the cacophony of vexation and uncertain decisions.

Though not privy to the latter, Jessi was quick to pick up on the first, as that was what burned brightly behind Torrance's gradually corroding façade. Still, she smiled. "It's been a while since we had dinner together, Tory," she said. "When was the last time again? Before I left for Toronto, right?"

Torrance said nothing.

Jessi scoffed lightly. "Oh, come on, Tory," she said, grinning. "I know fancy places like this make you feel uncomfortable, but can't you try to at least enjoy some of it? I even got the chef to make an exception and make your food the way Ms. Till would order it for the three of us at that diner near the foster place. Aren't you going to at least try it?"

Again, nothing.

Jessi sighed. "If you don't trust me with your food, then order whatever you want," she said amiably, though inwardly she was growing somewhat impatient.

"I did not meet with you for a social call, Jessi," Torrance said firmly.

"Oh, really?" Jessi sat up ponderously. "Business then?"

"What were you thinking coming to the gallery last night?" Torrance asked a little fiercely.

"Look. If you're mad at me for having you tracked down, I'm sorry," Jessi said. "I know it's a breach to our agreement, but I really wanted to see you."

"Cut the nonsense," Torrance commanded. "You and I both know why you came there, and I know you are very much aware that that is the reason."

The intensity in Torrance's demeanor surprised Jessi. It frightened her at first, reminding her of their days back when they were at the foster home, when the older girl acted as their protective mother and their disciplinarian. However, as she looked deeper into her, way past to what the eyes could see and into the deepest pit of her thoughts, the terror she felt swiftly morphed into a bitingly cold fury. Realization finally revealed that the girl that sat in front of her was not the same one who took her and Raymond under her wings years ago. Sitting across from her was a stranger whose altered allegiance made her prone to betrayal.

Sitting across from her was an enemy.

The sting this brought Jessi caused a much poisonous smile to emerge on her lips. "You know, Torrance, I've been meaning to say, you seem to have gone…_soft_," she said. She regarded her pityingly. "Soft is dangerous."

Torrance acknowledged how much of what was being slung her way was to provoke her, so she refused to do exactly what she was being moved to do.

Jessi drew her glass closer to her before taking a sip. "As your friend, I'm concerned," she said, staring down at her glass as she stirred her drink. "You seem to be forgetting who and what you are first. You're willing to throw away your real friends for this guy who, as I'm sure you've noticed, will generate a huge sell on the market. Who will better off in the Underground anyways, with us."

"You have no right to his life," Torrance reasoned.

"And you do?" Jessi asked, her tone sweet yet false.

"I am repaying a debt," Torrance answered. "The sum of all favors I do for him is to offset what I owe."

"So when all is done, what then?" Jessi challenged.

"He has a family to go back to," Torrance said resolutely, although the thought of this reality dug an emptiness within her.

Jessi raised her eyebrows. She laughed deridingly. "Oh, Torrance. You are so predictable!" she exclaimed. "I can't believe how you're refusing to put these things together!" She shook her head, smiling solicitously at her. "What do you think will happen once he's accomplished whatever he needs to do? Do you honestly think he's going to stay behind? So you and him and your dog can be this family?" she asked. In an attempt to awaken what she perceived to be Torrance's unconscious sensibleness, she added, "Tory. He's not like us. His portion in life is the type that we've always dreamed about. He has a wealthy family, with parents that love him. He's never going to understand us. He'll never see the world the way we do—"

"And that justifies the crime of taking everything away from him?" Torrance asked indignantly.

Jessi's smile dimmed into a smirk. Before picking up her glass again, she said, "It justifies the equalizing."

Torrance stared at her, her brows knitted as an uncertain mix of emotion washed over her like a tidal wave of arctic water. At once she reeled, regretted and was confused. She had known of Jessi's tendencies from long ago, but to see the severity of it all now, of all of her wrath and of all the acrid blame she insisted to direct to whom she seemed worthy, was something she did not foresee. This result had been one of those things that haunted her at night; Jessi may as well have strayed this far because of her. She was the one who introduced her to the life in the Underground, where indifference such as hers was justified and was even encouraged.

She should have known. The Underground was a loveless world, leading to a future full of thorns and thistles that constrict. Jessi was her responsibility, and she failed her.

Yet, reasonableness led her to understand that Jessi had become the person she had become because it was her choice. She had never swayed the younger girl in any other way to choose that horrid profession of making a living out of selling people as if they were merchandises. She could have done more to prevent it, she knew, but she also knew that any hope had been lost for Jessi ever since she had entered the life of the Nash's, who showed her the anatomy of hatred in its very core and forced her to live days, weeks, months on end within it.

At that moment, Torrance remembered those days when they were much younger, when Ms. Till would take them to that small diner near the home for a nice meal. She and Jessi always looked forward to it, because that was their semblance of what normal was. Two girls, a parent figure, and a younger brother sitting comfortably between his two older siblings.

Something tightly coiled within her as she realized that those days were gone. Everything had changed. Everyone had changed. She would see neither the first woman who had given her an idea of what a mother should be nor the once little boy who always asked her to sing him a lullaby every night. The Jessi that laughed heartily and exercised compassion even to her own demise was long gone, too.

Now all she had left was a problem to solve and a promise to keep.

"Don't take it personally, Tory," Jessi said. "I'm not doing any of this out of ill will or anything. The boy's just good, and I just can't pass up the opportunity."

"Leave him out of this," Torrance warned.

"When he's a gold mine? Not a chance! You know how much he can accomplish by just being Donald Davenport's stepson?" Jessi said. "What more with all the things that he knows about bionic technologies. He could be famous among interested scientists—especially if he could trick each of those prototypes to their labs." She frowned. "What are they called again? Subjects A, B and C? Or was it Adam, Bree and Chase?"

Torrance kept her composure in spite of her mind racing to reach a decision. When it did, she got up from her seat.

Jessi watched her in amusement. "Where you going, Tory?" she asked.

"You are blind and deaf to reason," Torrance responded. "The old friend of mine would have seen this as unjust. She would have listened to and taken what I said to heart."

"Mm, you should really listen to yourself, because lately your advices are starting to sound like advices that you should apply to your own situation," Jessi said. "I mean, am I really the one who's blind and deaf to reason? I'm not the one who insists on protecting a stranger who has a family he'd sure go back to soon. I'm not the one who's going to get cut out of the picture after months and months of taking care of him. Wouldn't that all be you? But hey. Who am I to keep you from your addiction?" She smiled. "I know how much you love it when people you love leave you."

Torrance stared at her, thoroughly disappointed that all had to come down to that.

Wasting no time, she turned around to leave.

"Oh, and Torrance?"

Torrance swiveled halfway to face her.

Jessi crossed her arms, and then leaned back on her seat with a smirk. "He's not Raymond," she pointed out.

Torrance glanced at her with her pale emerald eyes that bore the weight of the woefulness in her eyebrows. For a second, she sought to find the old friend she had known, the girl she had protected from harm as if she was her own sister by blood. However, as she stared deeply into the ravenous eyes of the person sitting comfortably in the darkness of that restaurant, she finally understood that it was a fruitless task.

Deciduously cutting the final chord to her past, Torrance turned around to leave.

After she had gone, Jessi went back to her drink, concerning herself with its dwindling volume.

"Are you just going to let her go?"

Jessi looked up to the person now sitting across from her. She smiled. "Hadley," she said, drawing out his name charmingly. "Tory's my friend. We can't go after her like she's some criminal. You and I owe our living to her." She took a sip from her drink, the young man across watching her meanwhile. Then, she checked her phone for the time. "Give her fifteen minutes then call Orwell and Marco. Tell them to blockade the gallery so she and my recruit can't go anywhere. Okay?"

Hadley nodded.

Jessi sat back contentedly. _Oh, Tory,_ she thought. _Wrong move._ Very _wrong move._

* * *

_to be continued._


	16. Sixteen

_Wow! Many reviews from last chapter! Thanks to AccessBlade, dreams71, LabGirl2001 (who pointed out something I've never thought of, so here's a shout out to ya!), AllAmericanSlurp, Lady Cougar-Trombone, 88keys, and xxWasabiWarriorAlertxx for those!_

_Alright. This is a double update, guys, so after you read this chapter, the next one will be available to read. They're both very short (these two chapters combined do not even reach 1000 words), but they're also packed. ;)_

* * *

_Sixteen._

"Leo. Leo, wake up."

Leo squinted up with a heavy frown, none too pleased with the violent way he was woken. The bare lamp plugged at a socket a few feet away showed Torrance, her small figure moving swiftly in the nearly absolute darkness of the gallery as she grabbed seemingly random pieces of equipment from the floor then stuffing those in her backpack. As he slowly sat up, he saw that Linux was as alert as she was. "Torrance? What are you—"

Torrance urgently grabbed Leo by the arm, pulling him up to his feet with strength he never knew she had. "We have to leave. Now," she told him, shoving his backpack towards him before swooping down to the floor to retrieve his laptop and its power cord.

Leo shook his head, more irritated. "What? Why?"

Torrance handed him his laptop after shutting it close. "They're coming for you," she said, pleadingly staring into his eyes to move him to cooperate. "We have to get out of here before they come."

It took but a second for Leo to realize what he had woken up to. Soon, he, too, launched into the severe task of snatching and pulling off and packing away the most necessary of their necessities.

Not a minute later, he was following Torrance to an elevator hidden at the back of the gallery. It was only after Torrance pushed the button for the elevator that he realized he had left the flash drive containing the copy of the Triton app.

Torrance grabbed the shoulder of his jacket as he turned to leave. "Where are you going?" she asked.

"I need to go back," he said. "I left my flash drive—"

"No," Torrance said tersely. "Leave it behind."

"I can't." Leo shrugged off her hold on him. Then, he briskly walked back.

"Leo, stop."

Both of them halted dead in their tracks as they saw a man, heavily clad in a dark jacket, standing in the middle of the gallery, facing them. "Torrance?" the man said.

Leo took a step back in a hopeful attempt to run but only bumped into Torrance, who stood still behind him. He turned around just in time to see her nod, the light frown on her face illuminated by the faint yellow light from the faraway lamp.

The man smiled what Leo perceived a menacing smile.

* * *

_to be continued._


	17. Seventeen

_Seventeen._

Jessi stepped out from the cozy warmth of her car into the lightly frigid New York air. After curtly nodding at the man who opened the door for her, she looked up at the heavily tinted windows of the art gallery where she knew Torrance and Leo would be. A dangerous smile stretched across her lips as she watched the shadows projected on the artfully tainted glass, one of a man, and the other two of smaller stature.

Following the lead of the three men in front of her, two of which opened the doors of the entrance for her, she ascended up the flight of stairs that she had seen not too long ago. She noticed Hadley already pressing down on the dog deterrent, just as he had last night. _Good,_ she thought. _I don't want that pest jumping on me._

When she reached the top, she walked up from behind her bodyguards, trying to contain her smile. She really did not want to do this. Really, she didn't. But it was clear where Torrance's loyalty now lied, and she couldn't have that messing up the opportunity she had to rebuild her name among her clients by taking away that boy.

Too bad Torrance had to be another one of those collateral damages.

Her musings of these matters disabled her from noticing the dread that suddenly cemented the feet of the men in front of her. They were staring ahead to a spectacle that Jessi did not expect, varying degrees of shock and confusion reflected on each of their faces.

As she beheld the formidable team of strangers standing opposite them, none of whom were Torrance or Leo, the half-smile, half-smirk that frequented her face vanished into a vapor, revealing the wrathful glower that it had always hid behind the wily smile.

One-upped. Both of them had one-upped her.

"Drop your weapons," the FBI agent taking the lead firmly instructed. He walked up to them slowly, his team following close by as the man made his way towards Jessi. As he stood in front of her, he took out the cuffs from behind him. "Jessi Evelyn Nash, you are under arrest for human trafficking and attempted kidnapping. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law."

The man recited words on and on, but Jessi could not hear him.

All that pounded loudly against the walls of her being was absolute hatred as she cast off her once close friend with the rest of them.

* * *

_to be continued._


	18. Eighteen

_Merci beaucoup to LabGirl2001, AllAmericanSlurp, AccessBlade, Lady Cougar-Trombone, tiff .n .b36, and xxWasabiWarriorAlertxx for the reviews!_

_Just a quick note: this chapter and the next slightly overlaps as far as timeline. You guys will know where it will._

_My favorite chapter of the entire story ;)_

* * *

_Eighteen._

Torrance watched ponderously as Leo worked on the multiple cords and wirings of the security box that Linux had located for them at the back entrance of the abandoned facility at a mountain in Goshen, Virginia. She had been trying to figure out for the past half hour how she could speak to him. She was both thankful and weary of the potent noise of nature and gadgetry surrounding them: thankful, because it filled the silence that had been upon the two of them since sometime last night; and weary, because the comfort it offered her caused her to beg off from handling a task she knew needed to be done.

She knew Leo was still upset with her. She could tell, not only from the deep frown that was currently on his face, but also from his choice of not speaking much since their successful escape from the gallery. Their last conversation involved her explanation of who the man standing in front of them was. He seemed frightened so both she and Agent Neiman, an FBI agent who she had known and had been helping for a few months already, had to assure him that it was all part of a plan and he needed not be concerned.

He just gave a tacit nod, which was as good a response as any.

Then, for the rest of their travel to Virginia, he said nothing else. It was as if he had retreated to some mythical place and would not be located until he was ready.

Torrance supposed that that was fine. He had much to think about, and so did she. After all, it still held her captive, her decision of turning in her only family to the authorities. She betrayed Jessi, and she was aware that that act catalyzed a permanent fission to their friendship, but the girl needed to be stopped.

Torrance knew this sudden decision was biased. She had known the countless of instances when Jessi would take innocent people, and she had not felt much of anything for them. There was that one boy, Dane. She had met him the day before he was taken. He came over to her table in that coffee shop in Chicago, attempting a conversation with her. He was very nice, and he did make her laugh unexpectedly once. When Jessi texted her a few nights afterwards about him, she had felt somewhat sorry, like how one would feel when a favorite puppy got adopted by another family.

However, with Leo—it was much different. She couldn't take that chance, especially with what she knew they would do to him when he refused to cooperate. She had seen the pictures on the files, of that same sweet boy from Chicago lying lifelessly beside a garbage can in an alley, like he was just another animal discarded due to lack of purpose.

She didn't want to see Leo ending up like that, too.

Torrance could almost hear Jessi's voice at the back of her mind, telling her that she had made a wrong decision. She had abandoned someone who would have remained loyal as her friend, as her only family, for a boy who would barely look at her and who would soon leave after the terrors that plagued his _real_ family was stomped out of existence.

But she had made a choice, and she had to live with its consequences.

Torrance acknowledged that this silent treatment was one of them, and it wouldn't end unless she did something about it. She was against apologizing again (she really shouldn't take full ownership of what had happened, she believed), but that was the only viable solution she could come up with. "Leo Dooley—"

"No."

Torrance took a deep breath, his terse response striking her full on. "Very well," she said concisely, her words successfully devoid of any traces of hurt.

Leo continued to immerse himself in his task for another minute. "Done," he said after he finished. Then, he looked back at Torrance. It surprised her when he smiled. "Sorry. What were you going to tell me?"

Torrance's mind blanked out for a second due to his unexpected reaction before she regained her faculties. "I was going to apologize for yesterday," she began.

Leo waved it away. "Oh. No. You don't owe me any apologies, Tor," he said, bending down to deposit the tools he used back to their case. He stood up with a sheepish smile. "Actually, I'm the one who owes you an apology."

A soft frown came up on Torrance's face.

"My reasons for getting upset with you were stupid," Leo admitted, a bit too embarrassed to look at her directly. "I got offended because you didn't want my help, and I thought that meant you saw me as incompetent. I thought that that was unfair because I was _sure_ I can handle things as much as you can. I didn't like it either that I'm always at the backseat of this mission or whatever." He scratched his head. "Man. Now that I hear all of it out loud, it really makes me sound shallow and childish," he muttered.

He shook his head then continued. "But, yeah. I'm sorry. You're already helping me, and I was still asking too much of you. I also _blamed_ too much on you," he said. He gave Torrance a smile before stooping down in front of his backpack to retrieve another device. "Oh, and what I said about my family," he added bashfully. "It's not true, you know. They did try to include me as much as they can. Even on missions. They really tried hard to make me part of the team. But it really just didn't—_doesn't_—work that way." The affable expression on his face dimmed as what he perceived as reality dawned upon him. "Maybe this is all I'll ever be good for, you know? Just assisting." He looked up at her sincerely. "Maybe this is just my lot in life."

Torrance watched him ponderously, but this time with pity. "Do you really feel this way?" she asked.

Leo stood up when he found what he was looking for. "Well, I feel it, and I can see it," he said. He shrugged, slightly grinning. "Don't worry. I'm okay with it. Either way, I'm along for the ride. And it's great, actually. Not being in the forefront means the pressure is not on me."

Torrance was glad that he viewed concerning outlooks like this with humor, but it still unsettled her. He didn't lie in saying that he was okay with it; that much, she could judge. However, she didn't want him to be so accepting of it. She didn't want him to have the mentality that he had to heavily depend on other people for his life to have meaning. So, she stated simply, "I disagree."

Leo stopped his work to look at her. "Disagree with what?"

"Disagree with your view that you are not an integral part in the life of the people you love," Torrance said. Despite having a heavy heart, she added, "You'll come to find that this is true when you come back home to your family. They have missed you, and I have no doubt that once you return, they'll never let you go."

"Oh, uh, yeah. About that…" Leo glanced at her hesitatingly. "I'm not going back home anymore."

Torrance frowned. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"I'm staying out of their lives permanently," Leo explained. "It's a stupid decision, I know, but it's for the best. I mean, it's driving me crazy, missing them as much as I do, and there's nothing more in the world I want than to be with them, especially my mom. But, if I come back, I'll cause problems again." He swiveled halfway to face her, his hands still on the device and on the new cords he was attaching to it. "The press, for one—they'll feast on Big D and Mom once they find out that I'm not really dead. They'll lie about my parents. They'll tell people that what happened to me was a show for publicity so Big D can gain sympathetic customers. They'll make them seem like manipulative and heartless people. I don't want that for them. And my siblings. They already feel like outcasts. Those kids at school will say more mean things about them."

Leo turned back to the security box but did not resume his task. "Plus, I've thought about it and…six months is a very long time," he added, his tone notably sadder. "Even if they don't care about what other people say, a lot of things have happened, I'm sure. I know what I did to them was mean, but it'd be meaner of me to come back now and expect them to live the way we all did before. That's not going to happen. I mean, I'm sure they'll eventually be happy to see me, but things have changed. How would I feel if my dad comes back into my life all of a sudden? I'll be happy, of course, but it'll be kind of hard. I have another dad now, to whom my mom is married to. I have older siblings too and it's—" he shook his head, "it's all going to be complicated."

"But as you said, it has only been six months," Torrance reasoned still. "How long has your father been gone?"

"Ten years but—I know what six months can do," Leo said. He sighed. "I know they're going to take care of Mom. Big D loves her, and I know Adam, Bree and Chase do too. It's going to be a lifetime of adjustments, but I know they'll be okay without me."

"As for you?" Torrance asked. "What will your plans be?"

Leo smiled solemnly. "I'm going to stay out here, keeping tabs on my family and, you know, maybe assisting you?" he said. He shrugged nonchalantly. "Or, if you'd prefer me to be out of your way, I'll leave. Tell me what direction you want me to go, and Linux and I will happily go there."

Torrance contemplated over these a while, and it made Leo a little uneasy. Then, factually she answered, "We will be staying at Honolulu until January. I have been offered a job by a major corporation there, and your skills will be much helpful. Linux can stay at a lodging place for dogs owned by a close acquaintance of mine."

Leo smiled, already anticipating what the following months would bring.

Torrance kept a smile from emerging on her face. She was looking forward to what was ahead, too, but the happiness she felt was due more to the victory she had gained.

Jessi was wrong. She had made the right decision.

Before she became too involved in that bliss, Torrance turned her attention to the device Leo had finished connecting to the security box. "What is that?" she asked.

"Oh. This?" Leo pushed its switch, causing three small blue lights and the screen to turn on. "It's just this vocal gadget thing I made a while back. I don't really know what to call it, but it does a few things. It can record. You know, basic things."

"Is it recording us now?" Torrance asked, stepping closer to examine the device.

Leo frowned at it. "Yeah, I guess," he said. "I haven't worked out that kink yet. It records everything while it's starting up. I'll probably pick it apart again in the future to fix that."

"Does it do anything else?" Torrance asked, focusing on the dials on the side.

"Oh. Yep. Yeah, it's also capable of recognizing languages. Well, it's _supposed_ to be able to do that." Leo laughed. "I tried it once, when we were in Colorado. It was…interesting."

"Colorado? You have had it since then?"

Leo nodded. "Yeah," he said. "I was supposed to sneak in a second gift to Chase into that care package he was going to take for Columbia. This was it. I thought this would be helpful to him, not that he needs it." He shrugged, turning the dial into a certain combination. "With his bionic intelligence, I don't think he'd use this."

Torrance smiled. "Highly doubtful," she said confidently. "I'm absolute your older brother would appreciate any gift you give him."

Leo smirked at her. "You think so?" he asked.

"I know so," Torrance said. "The guitar you had given your brother meant a lot to him. He even mentioned it in his graduation speech."

Leo's eyes widened in disbelief. "You listened to his graduation speech?" he asked.

"It was posted online," Torrance said. "I understood your need to stay away from anything that reminded you of them, so I, as you put it, kept tabs on them for you. Their welfare is a part of this task, and so I kept myself updated with their well-being."

Leo nodded. He smiled. "Thanks," he said.

"Not necessary," Torrance said. She gestured at the preset dials. "Is that another feature?"

Leo glanced at it. "Oh. Yeah. A mini vocal changer, which should come in handy in a few minutes," he said. He looked at the nearly dilapidated but very secure entrance. "I figured that the gates could only be unlocked with a password. It can't be biometrics, because there are no scanners. It does require a code, but it needs something else after that. I noticed a teeny tiny voice thing here at the back, which means it has voice recognition. I rewired a few stuff, so after we bypass the first part, we don't have to worry much about the second part."

Torrance watched as he opened the metallic box for better access to the keypad, which only contained twelve keys, a small lit red light and a similar unlit green light.

Leo shot a nervous look towards her. "Okay. Here we go," he said. With the deepest concentration, he began his work on the keypad. He stopped, doubting himself for a moment. Then, he finished it.

The red light turned off. The green light turned on.

"Identification required," a male mechanical voice came from behind the box.

"Douglas Davenport," Leo spoke through the device, which bent his voice into his step-uncle's.

A beep. Then, "Project password required."

"Delta…Echo…Foxtrot, Lima."

A beep.

"Access granted," the mechanical voice said before the heavy metallic gates popped then squeaked open.

Leo's eyes widened in surprise. He frowned at the security box, quite unsure of what he heard. Then, with a shrug, he started to pack up his belongings that cluttered the forest floor before unplugging the device he invented. Meanwhile, Linux circled around his spot before walking up expectantly to his owners.

"How did you know what the password was?" Torrance asked. "Did you break in the system ahead of time?"

"No," Leo said, wrapping the last two cords around his left hand before neatly storing them into his backpack. "To be honest, the phonetic alphabets were a shot in the dark. This thing has a built-in decoder, and the screen kept showing me D, E, F and L."

Torrance frowned. "D-E-F-L?" she repeated. "The first four letters of the project?"

"I know. It's kind of weird. You'd think it'd spell out the whole thing, but it doesn't." Leo picked up his backpack, and then slung it over his shoulders.

"What about the first part? Did the device decode it also?" Torrance asked.

A knowing smile pulled at the edges of Leo's mouth. "No," he said. "It's just one of those things you taught me how to do."

"I did," Torrance stated albeit unsurely.

"You did."

A sincere smile gradually came upon Torrance's features.

Leo turned the dials of the gadget into a certain combination before raising it up and turning towards his pet. "Linux," he said, his voice coming out raspy and hoarse. "Stand guard out here while we're inside the bad guy's lair, okay, boy?"

Linux barked at him.

Leo turned off the device, shushing his dog. "Right. I guess you're not ready for Batman yet," he said. He turned towards Torrance. "Can you put this in your pocket for the meantime, Tor?" he asked, handing the device to her. "I'm a little too loaded. Please?"

Torrance stared at him. "Make sure you take this back," she said, sliding it inside her jacket.

"Thanks," Leo grinned. They both stepped in front of the opened gate, behind of which lied the opened door to the facility. He looked back at Torrance. "Shall we?"

Torrance nodded although slightly apprehensive.

Reaching an agreement, the two of them went in through the gate and into the facility.

The world behind the heavy, dull gray door with the large caution sign in front was notably much different from the one that surrounded it. Although the forestry that had grown on the mountain was gradually slipping into its seasonal slumber, it was still much livelier than the interior of the building. Inside, everything was much removed from and devoid of life, and it was especially evident when Torrance silently closed the door behind her. The natural light that streamed in from the very few small windows high up created slanted squares of illumination on the floor, the amount of dust showed by it revealing of how long the place had been vacant. There was also the low, deafening grumble bouncing within the cylinders of numerous pipes, their sizes, types and usages all varying. The chipped walls surrounding the spacious but still relatively smaller room revealed the aged concrete blocks behind it, and for an instant it reminded Leo of open wounds.

The thought made his skin crawl.

"Someone was here just recently."

Leo looked back at Torrance.

Torrance nodded towards the shoe prints lightly concealed by the shadows on the floor.

Leo stared at them, becoming much more uneasy. "Okay, we need to get out of here fast," he said equally as silent as Torrance had. He turned back to the doors ahead of them then proceeded to the one labeled _LABORATORY_, under which was a faded red biohazard sign. He tried to open it but it was locked.

Before he could ask her what they should do next, Torrance was already in front of the knob, a bobby pin on one hand and a Swiss army knife on the other. With a frown, she worked on the lock.

A few seconds later, there was a click.

Torrance stood up, pocketing the items.

Leo grinned in amazement. "You have to teach me that one day," he said before opening the door effortlessly.

What unraveled before them as they stepped in caused Torrance to pause and Leo to shake his head.

"This guy's a real piece of work, isn't he?" Leo muttered. He scoffed softly, and then proceeded to scan the rows of doors to his right.

Torrance followed suit, but she was not able to fully focus on the matter at hand. She couldn't turn her eyes away from the somber scene enclosed by the lightly cloudy walls of glass standing in the middle of the room. The dim fluorescent lights lining the corridor showcased three empty metallic tables, all spaced out evenly. On either side of that room within a room stood two tall cylindrical chambers, each equipped with small control panels that were currently turned off. They were both empty, too. The remaining space was clogged with numerous rejected and rusted artificial limbs—a number of legs and arms with odd ratios and lengths, palms that lacked a few fingers. As she looked closer, she also found more disturbing materials, such as tufts of human hair and pieces of what looked like skin.

Torrance decided to turn her eyes away at that point to look for Leo. She frowned when she couldn't find him at first, but a few seconds later, he stuck his head out from one of the opened doors down the long hall. She released a breath she never knew she was holding when he waved her over.

"This should be it, right?" Leo asked Torrance after she came into the room and closed the door behind her. His eyes scanned the array of computers, all turned on and functioning with their separate tasks. He glanced at Torrance when she stepped up beside him. "This should be the control room, where he counterattacked us?"

Torrance nodded. "It appears so," she said.

A sly smile came upon Leo's lips. He walked towards the long desk then took a seat in front of it, plopping his backpack on the ground beside him.

"What are you planning to do now?" Torrance asked as she stood behind him.

"I'm checking first if this is really Douglas' lair," Leo answered while trying to comb through the many files stored in the computer in front of him. The next minute filled the room with sounds of swift clicking on the keyboard, underneath of which lay the stagnant and ominous whirs from the vents. "Ha! Called it," he cried, pointing at the screen as a schematic similar to the one Torrance showed him a long time ago appeared.

Torrance looked closer at the screen just as Leo smiled up at her triumphantly. It was unmistakably the file she had accidentally accessed a long time ago when digging for information about Leo's family. "Will you be erasing every file associated with this project?" she asked, looking back at Leo.

"Better," Leo smirked. He pulled out a flash drive from his jacket then raised it up for her to see. "I'm going to make sure he would never get to execute it."

"What do you mean?" Torrance asked as Leo plugged the flash drive into a docket.

"Well, the main key of this plan is the Triton app. It's what he's going to use to carry out everything," Leo explained. "But if the app is voided or, best yet, destroyed, then this project will just become another bust." He swiveled back to the computer and then pulled up the antivirus program he had created. "I've been developing this for four months, since you started teaching me how to make things like these. I modified it last night to fit the bill. I don't know how good it'll be, but this is the best defense I have for them."

Torrance watched Leo, admittedly amazed, as he minimized the program before accessing something else. "How did you come up with this?" she asked, smiling despite the slight knit of curiosity in her brows.

Leo grinned knowingly. "Actually, you came up with it," he said, eyes trained on the task at hand.

Torrance frowned.

"When you told me not to attack you, because you're not the enemy," Leo further clarified. "For some reason, it made me think about the Triton app, how I could program the antivirus to recognize it as a, well, a virus. If I can install this in Adam's, Bree's and Chase's chips, not only will it eliminate the app from their systems, it will also keep attacking any other forms of it that Douglas might try to install in the future." He paused. Then, he looked up at Torrance with an uncertain expression. "Does that sound crazy?" he asked.

Torrance smiled. "It does," she said. "But at times, insanity leads to creativity that wins what is good."

Leo nodded trustingly as he resumed his work. "Okay. Crazy it is," he said. He continued inputting commands for a few more seconds before speaking again. "Just give me another minute, and I'll let you handle this. I'll get you in the system as far as I can, and then it's all on you."

Torrance stepped back, casting a proud gaze on him. "No, Leo," she said sincerely, causing him to curiously turn around. "This is what I'm here for, to get _you_ through this as far as possible. Everything is in your hands now. All I will do is assist."

Leo stared at her, confused and surprised and terrified at the same time.

"Don't be afraid, and do not make any excuses. You're very able to do this," Torrance said reassuringly.

Leo was still unsure and was very hesitant, but soon a subtle nod came from him.

"What do you need?" Torrance asked.

"Time, I guess?" Leo said. "Putting this program in will take a while, and we need to make sure no one's going to come in and interfere with it."

"Of course. I can serve as a lookout—"

"Oh, you don't have to leave," Leo stopped Torrance as she turned towards the door. He nodded to a slightly ajar door on the left side of the room. "Surveillance cams are up and running," he shrugged.

Torrance walked over to the door, behind which was a good number of screens showing live feeds from the entrance, the surrounding sides of the building, and the various rooms and corridors within. "Got it," she said before walking in.

After she had gone in, Leo swiveled back to the computer. Soon, after another period of clicking and typing, he announced, "I'm in."

Torrance glanced at him, and then turned back to watching the black and white video screens.

There was a short pause, and it lasted long enough for Torrance to listen intently to the room outside.

Then, she heard Leo mutter words that made her heart coil tighter inside her, the envy she felt towards his family increasing a little bit more. "I'm sorry, guys," he said in a truly contrite tone after obtaining access to his siblings' chips. "I have to do this. But I promise, I won't do it again."

There was a click, and then the room fell into silence once more.

Torrance was moved to check up on him, to reassure him again, when a beep came from one of the surveillance screens.

Her heart dropped when she saw what the sensors picked up.

"Tor?" Leo called to her cautiously. "What was that?"

At that moment, all Torrance could see was a favorable future falling apart in front of her. She saw how the life she had grown to be comfortable with and the life she heavily anticipated because of that sense of family Leo had offered, which she didn't know she desperately wanted until then, became endangered. Suddenly, memories of the loving couple who offered her a home when she was seven then gave her back with a heavy heart when she was nine, of Jessi getting separated from her and Raymond because of the Nash's, and of Raymond getting adopted by a couple who took him thousands of miles away into another country flooded back to her. These inevitably caused her to make a quick decision to protect herself and to protect what she perceived to be hers.

"Nothing," Torrance lied after taking her eyes away from the screen that showed Adam, Bree and Chase standing at the front entrance, undoubtedly attempting to figure out how to get in. She walked out of the room enough for Leo to see her smile and to block his view of the screens. "There's just a deer roaming around, that's all."

"Oh." Leo shrugged. "Okay."

"It may be of our best interest to speed up the process, though," Torrance advised. "We may have company soon."

"Okay," Leo said, his eyes still trained at the computer. "Give me a few more seconds…" he said slowly.

There was a beep. Then another, then another.

"Done," Leo said happily. He turned the chair around to face Torrance. "I hope this works."

Torrance smiled, although she couldn't do so wholeheartedly.

"Now I just need to—"

A rapid succession of shrill and threatening beeps sprang up from the computer.

Leo spun around to it with a frown.

Curious, Torrance came to Leo's side. "What is it?" she asked.

Leo looked at the blueprint that suddenly appeared on all of the screens. Above it was a timer on a countdown. When he realized what it conveyed, he looked up at Torrance with wide, frightened eyes. "Run," he told her.

"What?" Torrance asked.

Leo quickly got up on his feet. "An electromagnetic field is going to fry everything within a mile radius of this building in two minutes. _Run._"

Before his words could register to her, Leo was already pulling her out of the room.

They separated as they sprinted out of the building, Leo running a few feet ahead of Torrance. Soon, they were out of the back doors, past the gates, and into forest. "Linux, come on!" Leo commanded as he sped past the dog.

Linux followed for a short distance. Then he stopped. He began barking.

Leo looked behind him to see what was wrong and saw Torrance struggling with her jacket which seemed to have been caught by the heavy gate that was now closed shut. He ran back to her then began desperately, violently pulling on the leather.

"You have to go—"

"No," Leo firmly told Torrance. "I'm not going to leave you."

Torrance looked up at him anxiously but also gratefully. She continued to shift her weight forward to free herself.

Their efforts were rewarded by Torrance's release.

Soon, they were running again, the numerous bodies of withering trees mixing into a panoramic blur around them. Their eyes were so trained ahead, to watch, to dodge, to leap over obstacles such as stumps and rocks, that they failed to notice that they were gradually drifting farther away from each other.

The electromagnetic field was activated sooner than they expected. Although they were far enough, the strong force that rippled through the forest floor caught up with them.

Torrance was much closer to the outskirts of the range that the only effect she suffered from was that of being knocked off her feet.

However, Leo was still within much of its reach. The invisible electric wave flung him towards a tree overhanging a path that dipped towards a much lower part of the mountain. The branch underneath him soon broke, and it caused him to plunge downwards dangerous heights.

When his body hit the ground, his back slamming hard against the earth, he felt all breath knocked out of him. The sounds of the world around him diminished into a monotonous, high-pitched ringing, and all sights ebbed into stains of colors.

Leo fought all inclinations to surrender into darkness. He had enough of his faculties to understand that he had broken several things in and around his body and he had hit his head hard enough that the result of closing his eyes could be fatal.

As he rolled his head slowly to the side, he noticed three figures approaching him.

One of the forms stepped forward—a girl, with long, dark brown hair. She kneeled beside him.

_Bree?_ Leo wanted to say, but his energy was dwindling to its final ounce.

He felt the tip of the form's fingers on his cheek, her head tilted as she gazed at him. "It's okay, Leo. We're taking you home."

The last of his strength was finally spent, and the option to stay awake was taken out of his hands.

As Leo slipped into unconsciousness, he felt fear, because the last voice that he heard was not Bree's.

* * *

_to be contiued._


	19. Nineteen

_Big thanks to AllAmericanSlurp, LabGirl2001, xxWasabiWarriorAlertxx, AlienGhostWizard14, and Lady Cougar-Trombone for the reviews! I'll try to reply to both of you who I had not sent a PM as soon as I can. _

_Again, this chapter and portions of last chapter are simultaneously happening. _

* * *

_Nineteen._

"Why can't I just blast it open?" Adam asked insistently. "That would make it so much easier!"

Chase looked up from scanning the tightly locked entrance gate. It had not been long since they arrived at the facility located at the secluded area of the mountain in Virginia, right where their father directed them to go, and he and his brother were already reverting back to their old habit of getting into petty arguments. "Adam. I told you. Doing that would make too much noise," he explained, notably irritated. "If someone's inside, they will know we're here and that will give them a chance to run away."

"Well that's why we have Bree," Adam responded. He looked back at her expectantly. "You'll run after them, right?"

Bree shook her head. "Don't get me into this," she said.

_"__Guys, focus. You don't have much time. They can access your chips at any second, and I'd rather those not be in you when it happens,"_ Donald's voice came in urgently through their com-sets.

"Understood, Mr. Davenport," Chase spoke before turning back to his task. He frowned at the gate. He shook his head in frustration. He sighed then he stood up. "Okay. Melt the locks with your heat vision, Adam."

Adam smiled widely. "Mm-hmm," he said, taking his place in front of the gate while Bree and Chase backed away.

However, just before he could activate his heat vision, a searing pain pounded on his head, as if an iron gavel struck against his skull.

Adam closed his eyes tightly, slightly losing his balance as he instinctively placed a hand on his head.

Bree and Chase hurried to his side anxiously. "Adam. What's wrong?" Chase asked.

"I don't know," Adam said. "My head just started hurting all of a sudden."

Bree and Chase looked at each other, communicating the mutual alarm they felt.

_"__What happened?" _

"Something's wrong with Adam," Chase reported.

Donald was quiet for a moment, no doubt working to find and resolve the problem. _"Nothing coming in through here,"_ he said. _"Let me try checking your chips."_

Fearing what they would hear next, Bree took the initiative to step up to the closed gates. "Chase," she called to her little brother. When he looked at her, she nodded to the locks, asking for his permission to break it.

Chase nodded, frown still etched on his face as he supported Adam up.

Bree placed her hand on the lock. The warmth circulating within her palms temporarily dissipated. She felt its temperature lower to a prickling degree. Soon, ice began to travel from her fingertips to the metal, the white frost growing like crystal vines around the locks. It took only several seconds. When the once seemingly unbreakable metal felt brittle under her touch, she forcefully pushed it forward. It shattered into numerous fragments, the gates popping open in its wake.

She looked back at Chase.

Chase turned to Adam. "How are you holding up?" he asked.

Adam blinked back the ebbing pain. "Fine," he said, "but, I don't know how much help I'd be."

Bree came to his other side, supporting him up like Chase did. "Come on," she said gently. "The three of us will go in."

Adam gave a minute nod and then followed Bree as she led him forward.

"Wait."

Adam and Bree swiveled around to face Chase, who now stood cemented a few paces behind them. They found his eyebrows knitted ponderously, his eyes scanning the earth beneath the three of them. For a few seconds, he didn't speak.

"What, Chase?" Bree asked.

Chase intensified his hearing and soon confirmed what he had detected earlier: a low whirring that increased in volume as the energy within it fiercely built up. He lifted his widened eyes at his older siblings. "We have to abort the mission," he told them.

"What?" Adam asked.

"There's something underneath this facility. We have to leave, or we're toast," Chase said firmly.

Bree looked back longingly at the opened gates, disappointed with the sudden change of their plans.

Chase jogged over to them. Although the sense of urgency pulsed within him, he was still able to sympathize with his older sister. They came there for their freedom. They came there to make sure that no one else would get the opportunity to attach another string on them and play them like their puppets. Yet, it was clear that the time was inopportune. Their freedom was important, but their lives were too. "I know," he told Bree consolingly.

"Are you sure we can't?" Bree asked sadly.

"Yeah. I'm sure."

Bree nodded. She walked around Adam to stand between them. She raised up her elbows, allowing them both to grab onto her arms.

Chase amplified his bionic hearing more to listen to the ground beneath them one more time, hoping that he had been wrong.

Regrettably, he was not.

"Okay. Grab on," Bree instructed, her voice coming in louder than normal.

_"__Linux, come on!"_

Chase's head snapped up as a familiar voice suddenly struck his ears. He looked from side to side, alert, searching for the source of the voice.

"What is it?" Adam asked after he and Bree saw his expression.

Chase heard a dog barking. It must not be that far, he assessed. "Do you guys hear…?" he asked absentmindedly as he continued to listen.

Bree shook her head. "We don't hear anything, Chase," she said.

_"__Guys. What's happening?"_ Donald asked.

"I just…"

_"__You have to go—"_

_"__No. I'm not going to leave you."_

"Leo?" Chase said in confusion, absolute about the owner of the voice even if he had not heard him for a long time.

"What?" Adam and Bree said in unison.

Chase looked up at them, his eyes wide with hurt and hope.

Before he could speak, Donald came back on the communicator. _"You three. Come home, _now_,"_ he commanded. He breathed out exasperatedly. _"I don't know how, but someone's just uploaded something to your chips. We got to get those off of you. Hurry."_

Chase remained unmoving. He continued to listen for his little brother's voice, hoping that it would resurface again above the potent roar of the engines beneath their feet. However, nothing came.

"Chase," Bree gently called, stepping closer to her brother. "We have to go."

Chase looked at her, and it was evident in his eyes that he was desperate for her to say that she heard what he heard, too.

Instead, she responded by looping his arm around hers, putting it in place before she took off. "Ready?" Bree asked.

Chase was not completely sure how he had responded. All he remembered was seeing both of his siblings regard him with saddened expressions before Bree tightened her hold on them.

Then, the world around them was blown away by a familiar stiff breeze, the colors, memories and sounds colliding into a lengthy monochrome of gray.

* * *

_to be continued._


	20. Twenty

_Much thanks to xxWasabiWarriorAlertxx, LabGirl2001, AlienGhostWizard14, Lady Cougar-Trombone and AllAmericanSlurp for the reviews :)_

_This chapter explores a few sensitive topics. They're not very heavy, but I believe caution's still necessary._

* * *

_Twenty._

Donald frowned heavily at the tablet balanced on his right hand while he sat at the white sofa in the lab. His right foot tapped impatiently underneath him as his eyes anxiously scanned the program on the relatively small screen, the same unknown program that was introduced to his children's bionic chips not too long ago by an outside source. The wait overturned his stomach. From where he was, he couldn't check its purpose, its composition. The parasitic program could be very vicious, for all he knew.

Unconsciously, this worsened his nervous tick.

Even with Bree's super speed, he knew it would take them some time before they could get back home. Virginia was thousands of miles away from California, and Bree was still limited. The best he could do right now was hope that they would come back before the program was activated, which he feared might have been—especially with Adam's complaint of a massive headache.

Donald stilled when he remembered the last word that came from Chase. Their conversations had gone on freely and in the open earlier, and he had been glad that Tasha was upstairs, preoccupied with cleaning up the house before the workweek began again.

Many possibilities ran through his head when Chase said the name. _Leo._ He thought about that being another result of the intrusive program. His youngest child's memory may have been triggered to play tricks on him, such as hearing the voice of someone who couldn't speak anymore.

Sadly, the alternate could also be possible, that Chase was hearing Leo because his mind, without any outside influence, was filling in some void left behind. Donald knew it so well, because there were still some instances when he would mistake a student to be his stepson whenever he picked up the three from school or when he would inexplicably feel some sort of attachment to an employee's child because the kid laughed like the boy they lost.

Donald sighed. He would have to talk to Chase later on about it, offer however much help he could.

"Are the kids home yet?"

Donald looked up and saw Tasha standing at the mouth of the tunnel, her right hand perched forlornly on her hips, her eyes soft, her stance rich with an undercurrent of tension. He shook his head. "No," he said almost quietly.

Tasha nodded. "Good. Because we have to talk about something," she said. She then pitched a sizeable yellow envelope at the table in front of him.

Donald glanced at it then sighed, closing his eyes. "How did you find this," he said though he meant to ask. His tone was calm despite the pressure building in his chest. "I hid this."

"Not as well as you thought you had. It fell off your desk, the one by the library." Tasha took a deep breath in an attempt to contain her anger, her frustration and her tears. "A divorce, Donald?"

The words struck Donald in a way he didn't expect. He felt as if he had been hit by a baseball bat on the chest and had been rendered weak by such a strong force. "Tasha—"

"Why?" Tasha asked. "What did I ever do to you?"

Donald lifted his eyes up at her and found the realization of his fears. Her expressions conveyed her anger, but the tears escaping her eyes conveyed his failure. She was crying this time because of him. "You didn't do anything," he said, his tone still only barely above a whisper. "I wasn't… I wasn't going to… I just didn't—"

"Didn't what? Didn't think I'll find this?" Tasha pressed.

"No. Yes." Donald shook his head. "I don't know."

Tasha lightly scoffed. "When were you planning on letting me know—"

"Not soon. Not _this_ soon," Donald answered, his voice rising a little. He sighed when he realized what he had done, and soon he felt another wave of shame. "It's supposed to be a back-up plan," he muttered though not intending the words to come out of his mouth.

"A back-up plan…for what?" Tasha asked.

Donald wanted to answer diplomatically, to give her a response that would appease them both, but his mind was in such a jumble, with all truths and lies and half-truths vying to come out of him, to do so. He was sick and tired of it, of refereeing between the rabid inclinations, that he yielded to whichever rose first as a victor. "For you," he said, his lips twisted up in a sad smile as he looked at her. "Because I don't want to ruin your life anymore."

Tasha stared at him compassionately. She let out a breath. "Donald—"

Donald held up a hand. "I know what you're going to say," he said. "But you saying them don't make them true, Tasha. What I did... It can't be fixed."

"You didn't do anything."

"That's the problem. I didn't," Donald insisted. "There were so many things I could have done. A part of me knew he would do what he had done and—and I didn't act on it." He paused, futilely straining the thoughts rushing out all at once. "I should have listened to you. We shouldn't have gone to that ball in the first place. It all started there. I know he blamed himself for what happened to Bree. Everything else that happened, everything else that pushed him to do what he had done, started there. And I didn't listen to you. Now he's gone, and we're all here. Like this." He gazed at the envelope. "I'm supposed to give you a good life, not to take it away from you."

Tasha stared at him as they both grew silent. Then, she asked softly, "How'd you know that he blamed himself?"

"Because, in that way, he and I are much alike," Donald answered, refusing to look at her.

Hearing what he had to say, Tasha took the empty seat right beside him. Then, she smiled warmly at him, knowing that his wrong, self-condemning conclusions left him feeling cold and heartless. "Did I ever tell you that Leo looks exactly like his dad?" she asked. Donald still didn't look at her, but she knew he was listening. "It was kind of funny, actually. We'd put Leo's baby pictures right beside Jason's pictures when he was a kid, and sometimes people would mistake him as Leo. We always laughed about it, especially his dad. I think he did because it made him feel good. He had always loved Leo so much, and Leo knew it. That boy. He had his father wrapped around his fingers. Once he found out that Jason can rarely ever say no to him, he took advantage of it. He wants toys? He'd go to Jason. He wants the batch of cookies I baked for the people in the office? He'd ask his father for it. Anything he asked, Jason would give. I was almost afraid that we'd had spoiled Leo rotten, but despite all that giving he managed to teach his son how to be a good person. That's what he wanted him to be anyways, a good person."

Her smile shrunk. "Then Jason got sick. It was really bad. He spent weeks in the hospital, and he never got any better. I knew that in his last few days, he was barely holding on. He was tired but he fought for more time. He didn't want to leave us, especially Leo. He wanted to watch him grow up, but he couldn't. So one night, he asked Leo what he would become when he grows up—because that's how far he could go."

Tasha breathed out, her brows wrinkling deeper as she looked at her feet. "Oh, I was so mad at Leo when Jason died. At the time, I was so convinced that Jason gave up because of him. That question his father asked, it was his way of asking for permission to die, and Leo just handed it over," she said, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I couldn't think straight. It got so bad that Mom had to keep Leo for a month because his just being in the apartment with me upset me." She sighed. "Then I realized later that I was wrong. I can't blame my baby for what happened. It was all out of his hands. It had _always_ been out of his hands. It's a shame it took me so long to get that in my head. Now I'm constantly left thinking about that one month I wasted away from him. I would give up everything for four more weeks with my son. I'd give up my life! But—I'm learning that things don't work that way. This is here, and this is now." She placed a hand on Donald's knee. "Do you not love me anymore?"

Donald looked at Tasha, his eyes faintly red. "I've never stopped falling for you," he said.

Tasha smiled, wiping away the tear that ran down his face. "Good. Then this—" she tapped on the envelope with her index finger twice, "this will go missing some time tonight and will never be found again. Because, for my part, I believe that there's a reason why Leo did what he did for us. Our life—it's not going to be easy, but we just have to take this one day at a time."

Donald leaned in towards Tasha, accepting the warm embrace that he knew he would find there. His hands wrapped around her waist, absorbing the comfort she had always held out to him but which he formerly staunchly refused.

Tasha, meanwhile, wrapped her arms around his neck, her hands drawing in him closer to her.

For a while, they sat like that, a tangle mess of tears and silence, of forgiveness and understanding, of thoughts subsiding and emerging all at once.

They were only moved to part by the sound of footsteps approaching the lab from the tunnel near them. Donald stood up, drying his eyes with his hands, while Tasha, also on her feet, did the same with a bashful grin. "Okay, guys," Donald said, slightly sniffling. "Capsules."

Bree's eyes narrowed as she slowly placed the bag of mission gears on the floor. Chase, on the other hand, frowned. "Um… Did we miss something?" Bree asked.

"Oh, yeah, this?" Donald asked, wiping his damp palms on his jeans. "Yeah, Tasha and I just watched a sad movie, really sad. Both of us cried."

"Right," Chase said, dubious.

"How's your head, Adam?" Donald asked to redirect the conversation.

"Why?" Tasha shot a worried look at Adam. "Did you get hurt on the mission?"

"No," Adam answered, depositing the other bag at the opposite corner of the room. "It just started hurting while we were there. But I think I'm okay now."

Tasha hurried towards her older son. "You look a little pale, honey," she said. She placed the back of her right hand on his forehead and the palm of her left hand underneath his jaw to gauge his temperature. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," Donald said. A suspicious frown began to form on his face. "Now that Tasha's mentioned it, the three of you look kinda sick."

"We're fine," Chase waved their parents' anxieties off, knowing that it was the last thing they needed to feel. "We're probably just a little off because of the travel. Bree did run over several bumps. She kept stopping several times too. With all the whiplashes we suffered from, she should be glad we didn't throw up on her."

Bree resorted to rolling her eyes as a response.

"Adam?"

The next thing Donald saw was Tasha carefully descending to the floor, not letting go of a severely unconscious Adam in fear of her child getting hurt by the fall. She moved quickly once she had sat down and gotten him properly situated. "Adam," she called to him firmly, tapping fervently on his cheeks. "Come on, baby. You have to wake up."

Bree jogged up towards their stepmother, sitting beside her to assist her.

After checking his vitals, Tasha looked up to Donald, who was notably very alarmed, with widened eyes.

Donald's brows wrinkled, asking her what she meant.

Tasha shook her head fearfully. _Adam's dead._

Both parents were transitioning to their next move when a loud, intense choking sound echoed from Bree. She was knocked off her stance, falling sideward helplessly while her body convulsed with desperate coughs. Tasha held her close with her free hand, wrapping her arm around her daughter's torso to keep her from hitting her head on the floor.

Before they could offer her any remedies, Bree's body went limp and her breathing ceased.

"Bree!"

Donald had barely made two steps towards his wife and his two oldest children when he felt a hand tightly grasp his arm. He turned around and found Chase sinking to his knees, his eyes tightly shut as pain bolted through his body and air was punctured out of his lungs. Donald tried to help him up, but when it became evident that Chase was too weighed down by whatever was hurting him, he sat him down.

His youngest child settled in his arms then, his hazel eyes searching his father's face. Donald watched him breathlessly as he struggled with the last of his breath.

Then, after one hiccup, Chase's eyes closed. His body stilled, and then his head lolled into a rest on his father's arm.

"No, Chase," Donald muttered as he desperately tapped on Chase's cheeks to wake him. "No, no, no."

"Donald…"

Donald looked up and saw Tasha's equally distressed expression.

_Bree's gone too._

Donald looked back at Chase. He continued to tap on his cheeks, rejecting what the boy's pallid appearance evidenced. It couldn't be too late. It couldn't be. The program couldn't have done this.

He hoped that it didn't, because losing them would kill him.

* * *

_to be continued._


	21. Twenty-One

_Thank you so much to tiff. n. b36, LabGirl2001, AlienGhostWizard14, Lady Cougar-Trombone, and AllAmericanSlurp for your reviews! I apologize for not being able to send a reply! Family events this past weekend took me off the computer..._

_Odd way to kick off the chapter, especially with how the last one ended, but things will be explained throughout._

* * *

_Twenty-One._

A Beatles song had just begun playing inside the pizzeria when Chase walked out, the clang of little bells attached on the door ringing after him. Despite the steady pitter-patter of rain, he continued heading towards his car, drawing out his keys from his pockets. A deep, crossed frown seemed to have etched itself on his face as he thought of how pathetic all of it was, how pathetic he felt. He had waited for three solid hours for Mathai, and she never came.

He was inclined to take the fault as his own, but his dissipating but still very present short-temperedness did not allow him such a great foolery. Granted, he did have to call her last night to ask her if they could reschedule after what happened at the lab, which might have been inconvenient and somewhat of a turn-off for her, but he had already been given a head's up earlier about the possible reason for her apparent indifference to their date. Theodore reported that while he was out picking up an order at a restaurant somewhere in Pasadena last night, he saw Mathai steadily flirting with a senior, and the guy was leaning in towards her in such a way that 'it was clear they were more than friends, man.'

Chase rolled his eyes as he reached his car.

Pathetic, all of it was.

Chase pressed the unlock button on the controller and instead of hearing the locks clicking up, he heard nothing. He tried again, his patience already wearing thin, but again, nothing. He huffed in anger. However, before he could do or say something that he knew he would regret later on, he took a deep breath and worked hard to get the sour expression off his face.

He hated it, what that program did. He could remember everything that happened, and he could still feel its effects.

He had brushed it off when it began, which was about a few seconds into their travel out of the mountain in Virginia. He felt what seemed like an early onset of a terrible migraine, and his stomach twisted in an incredibly painful knot. Still, he endured it, knowing that he could just sleep it off once they got back home.

However, before the three of them could get into their capsules to get their chips extracted, the program took its toll. He watched Adam fall, then Bree, before the sharp pain solidly hit him straight on his skull and on his chest. He couldn't breathe. He struggled to, because he didn't want to die in his father's arms. He didn't want to inflict that pain on him, and he tried to communicate it the best he could through his eyes. However, the effect of the program was too powerful, and all he could do was submit to it as peacefully as he could.

Soon, there was darkness.

Next, there was brightness.

He woke up inside his capsule, lightheaded and with a sore neck. With a wince, he touched the spot where the mild pain throbbed and found that the slot where his bionic chip usually rested was empty. He looked up and found his father hurrying towards him, his face pale. Meanwhile, Tasha sat on the sofa with Bree, offering her stepdaughter a glass of water, her face awash with similar anxiety.

When he, Adam and Bree regained enough energy, his father, who notably had been terrified out of his wits, told them that their systems shut down for a few minutes, rendering them technically dead in that span of time. Their vitals resumed again, and when both he and their mother was sure that they really were in a safe state, they helped them into their capsules, preventing any further scares by extracting the chips while they were asleep.

After letting them rest longer, their father told them earlier while they were having breakfast that after a thorough search, he didn't find anything harmful in their chips. There _was_ that new program, and it sat stubbornly within. (He tried to delete it, but it wouldn't go. It seemed to have attached itself onto them and would not budge—no matter the effort.)

One curious thing about the introduction of the program, though, was what it seemed to have done. The Triton app was gone. Their father said he repeatedly combed through their chips in an attempt to determine whether it had suddenly turned dormant or, worse yet, evolved into something more powerful, but he did not find it.

The program that was wound around them like strings to three puppets had been snapped loose and was now non-existent.

Yet, as much as Chase would like to revel in that, he felt wary. That other program was still in them, and even if his father had declared it harmless (though still a nuisance), he couldn't help but be suspicious, especially whenever he considered the fact that they didn't know who made it, why they made it, and what its purpose was.

"Chase Davenport!"

Chase sighed, slipping in the key to the car door to unlock it. "Look. I'm in no mood for jokes right now," he said calmly but firmly. "If you guys need a freshman to torture, you're going to have to try another day." He was about to open his car, determined to get out of the situation and the heavily pouring rain, when a hand turned him around to face her.

"Chase Davenport, please," Torrance begged, the dim lighting from the distant restaurant sign revealing the desperation in her eyes. "I need your help."

Chase's brows knitted, unhappy with the presumptuous act. He shrugged off her hand, slowly pushing it away at the same time. "Please don't do that," he said. Then, he turned back towards his car.

Knowing that she was not being heard, Torrance acted drastically. She grabbed the edge of the door when Chase opened it and refused to let go.

Chase snapped back at her impatiently. "What do you want?" he asked.

"I want your help," Torrance said. "You and your siblings are the only ones who can rescue him."

"Rescue who?"

"Leo," Torrance said.

Chase stared at her blankly, his mind in an uncertain rotation between shock, sorrow and anger. Finally, he shook his head. "Tell your friends I got the message," he said quietly. "Tell them too that my mind's in a dark state tonight, and if they push me too far I can be as unreasonable—and they're not going to like my way of answering back."

"The only friend that's inciting me to do this is Leo, and he is in danger," Torrance insisted unwaveringly. "Why won't you listen—"

"Who do you think you are?" Chase fired back, refusing to hear what she had to say anymore. "You don't know me—"

"I know you more than you think I do," Torrance responded calmly. She took her hand off from the car door. "I know more things about you than your current friends do." She sighed, her breath shuddering from the cold of the rain and the guilt she felt inside, especially as she thought about Leo.

Chase continued to fume as he glared at her, but something about her seemed familiar. The feeling continued to claw at the walls of his memory until finally, it broke free. His face cleared. "You," he said. "You were the girl at the ball. And the funeral."

Torrance looked down and said nothing.

Many things evidently tumbled in Chase's mind, and he considered them all. She was the answer to his search, the proof that his efforts had not been in vain. He knew he should feel a sense of closure, but he didn't. There were numerous ways he wanted the situation to end, but he opted for the one he thought satisfied him the most. "I will give you five minutes to run," he cautioned evenly. "After that, my family and I will go after you, and we will turn you in for what you did to my brother."

After one last look at her, Chase turned towards his car, intent on stepping in.

_"__It's just this vocal gadget thing I made a while back. I don't really know what to call it, but it does a few things. It can record. You know, basic things."_

Chase stopped, his heart skipping at hearing the voice of his younger sibling.

_"__Is it recording us now?" _

_"__Yeah, I guess. I haven't worked out that kink yet. It records everything while it's starting up."_

Chase spun around, eyes slightly wide.

Torrance stood a few steps away from him, holding in her hand the recording device Leo asked her to keep for him.

Chase heard Leo laugh, and it melted away all his anger, reducing it into a forceful chemical of recognition then longing. _"I tried it once, when we were in Colorado. It was...interesting."_

_"__Colorado? You have had it since then?"_

_"__Yeah. I was supposed to sneak in a second gift to Chase into that care package he was going to take for Columbia. This was it. I thought this would be helpful to him, not that he needs it. With his bionic intelligence, I don't think he'd use this."_

"Why would he…" Chase trailed off, surprised that Leo had revealed something as sensitive as his bionics to a stranger. "He wouldn't…"

_"__You think so?"_

_"__I know so. The guitar you had given your brother meant a lot to him. He even mentioned it in his graduation speech."_

Torrance stared at him, her eyes soft with pleading for him to believe her.

Chase looked back at her, completely puzzled and deplete of words.

* * *

_to be continued._


	22. Twenty-Two

_Big thanks to LabGirl2001, Anna Davenport, AllAmericanSlurp, AlienGhostWizard14, Lady Cougar-Trombone, and xxWasabiWarriorAlertxx for the reviews!_

* * *

_Twenty-Two._

A certain lull descended upon the household as that Sunday night drew near to its close. Tasha was preoccupied with packing her children's lunches for tomorrow while Donald, after exchanging quick, enamored glances with his wife, proceeded towards his desk at the corner to finalize some necessary paperwork. Meanwhile, Bree was lying down on the sectional, her hands folded across her stomach, her eyes towards the ceiling as she contemplated about several things, including their mysterious close call at the lab and Kerry's and Chase's claims of, respectively, seeing and hearing Leo.

"Okay. I found it," Adam declared, walking out from the hall leading to the library. He pushed a book into the backpack slung idly on his forearm before looking up at Bree. "I'm ready to go downstairs."

Bree sat up, shooting one inquisitive glance at Adam before swinging her feet off to the ground. She opened her mouth to complain, the same time their parents stopped their activities to wish and kiss them both good night, when the front door squeaked open.

First to step inside was a girl that looked familiar to Adam and Bree, her dull golden hair and her clothes dripping wet with water from the inclement weather outside. She moved hesitatingly, perhaps only moving at all because of Chase, who had his hand fastened on her elbow, his grip not tight at all but obviously sufficient to keep her from running.

The disgruntled disposition reflected on Chase's features worried Bree, Donald and Tasha.

On the other hand, seeing the girl's and his little brother's bedraggled state puzzled Adam. "Um," he began carefully. He winced a bit. "I know this is your first date ever, but bro – taking a stroll through a storm is _not_ how you do it."

Chase ignored Adam's remark. Instead, he let go of his hold on Torrance.

"Oh, honey," Tasha said. "Both of you are drenched. What happened?"

Donald got up from his seat. "I'll go get you two some towels."

"No, Mr. Davenport," Chase said, stopping his father short. "You need to hear this." He glared at Torrance. "Talk."

"Chase."

"It's okay, Donald Davenport," Torrance said. She glanced at Chase. "You do have to hear what I have to say."

Donald swiveled back towards them, a light wrinkle forming on his brows.

Torrance spoke. "I came tonight to your family to ask for help, because you and your children are the only ones now who have the ability to."

"Um, okay. What help do you need?" Adam asked.

"Your brother," Torrance said. "I'm afraid that he's in a horrible situation, and you need to save him."

"Save…Chase?" Adam asked. He looked at Chase with heavily wrinkled brows.

Chase crossed his arms, shaking his head. "Leo," he said, the frown on his face only deepening.

Silence befell them, no one daring to revisit the still sore subject.

"What are you talking about, Chase?" Donald asked slowly, cautious less he worsened what he perceived to be an act of grief. "And who is this girl?"

"My identity is not important at this moment, but do know that I am a friend," Torrance said. She sighed, seeing how she was once again being met with skepticism despite the short amount of time they had. "I know that what I'm saying sound unrealistic, but it is the truth. For the past six months, Leo Dooley had been with me, and—"

"No. You – you can't have," Tasha said. "I buried my son six months ago. It was him who we buried at that cemetery."

Torrance looked at her guiltily. "You buried a _what_, Tasha Davenport. Not a who," she said quietly. "It was a wax figure in that casket. It still is."

Tasha felt her heart drop and her gut flip. Soon, the once futile hope she had held out a long time ago rose from the ashes of her being, and once again she was engulfed with the possibility of her son being alive.

"During the funeral, he was in Nevada, where I advised him to stay," Torrance explained further.

"That…" Donald said, still incredulous. "That doesn't sound like him. He would have never done that to us."

"He did," Torrance refuted politely, "because he had to. He didn't want to, believe me, but all of you were in danger."

"In danger?" Adam echoed.

Torrance nodded. "That week, when Leo Dooley received the red letter," she began. "The threat on his life was actually a threat towards your entire family. It had all been a part of Douglas Davenport's plan, and we both agreed that the only solution to it was for him to leave everything behind. At the time, it seemed as if he was using him to get to you three. If he had stayed and Douglas Davenport had gotten to him, the results on your family would have been fatal."

"What plan?" Donald asked. "And how did you know about my brother?"

"The plan was going to be accomplished through a project, a project which I unearthed while I was gathering information about Leo Dooley several months ago," Torrance explained. "I owe him much, and I was seeking to repay him. I looked through different areas where I could, and that is how I came to find out many things about your family." Donald's face cleared of the frown, giving way to a terrified expression. To assure him, Torrance said, "I know about your children's bionics, and I know it was Douglas Davenport who initiated it. Admittedly, I had been fascinated by this, and that same fascination led me to the layout of Project Deflection."

"Project Deflection?"

Torrance nodded again. "It was meant to put Adam, Bree and Chase Davenport under a new form of the Triton app and has the goal of using them to eliminate anyone that Douglas Davenport wish to be eliminated. This is what frightened Leo Dooley the most. There were three people that he intended to target first, and it seemed like it included you and his mother. He did not want to lose her, to lose any of you." She turned towards Chase. "Yesterday. There was something installed to your bionic chips."

Chase did not respond. He only glared at her, his jaws still tight. Although, the new piece of information piqued his attention.

Torrance faced the rest of the family again. "That program should have eliminated the Triton app altogether," she said. "Leo created that to protect all of you. He designed that antivirus to destroy the app and any other version that may come in the future. He uploaded it yesterday, while we were at Goshen, Virginia."

"You couldn't have been there," Adam said doubtfully. "_We_ were there, and we never saw you."

"Leo Dooley and I were already inside when you and your siblings came," Torrance said, refusing the guilt her conscience told her she should feel.

"Prove it," Donald challenged.

Torrance drew out the recorder from her pocket. "The rain may have affected its function a bit," she said. Then she tossed it across the room. Donald caught it. "Chase Davenport has heard what its memory contains, but I'm sure you can still access them."

"What's in it?" Adam asked, frowning at the device as he and Bree headed towards it.

"The conversation she and Leo had as they broke into the facility," Chase answered for her. "He supposedly used that same device to get through the password-secured gates at the back."

"How do we know that you didn't make all of these up?" Donald asked. "That all of what you've just said is not fake? For all we know, Douglas could have used some device to sound like Leo and sent you here to us with this story to lure us into another trap."

Torrance opened her mouth to speak, but Chase spoke for her again. "It may be the case, Mr. Davenport," he said, "but, for the most part, what she's told us seems to check out. I heard Leo yesterday." He saw Donald's expression soften. "I know, but it couldn't have been just my mind playing tricks on me, because I heard her too."

Donald stared at him, still unconvinced.

"Plus – the Triton app. You yourself told us that it's gone," Chase added. "If this has been Douglas, why would he delete the app he needs to use to control us? To carry out this plan that she's just said?"

"This may just be damage control, to cover up a mistake he'd made," Donald explained. He stared at his youngest child and determined through his eyes that, though he was inclined to, he refused to completely disregard what the girl had said. So, he asked, "Do you trust her?"

Chase glanced at Torrance. Torrance refused to turn around for fear of what she would find in his eyes. "No," he said concisely.

Donald nodded, viewing the matter as settled.

Thunder boomed loudly from the dark skies above, following a bright flash of lightning. Linux fearfully hurried inside the house at that moment, leaving the spot outside where he was told to stay, and headed towards Torrance's side.

Torrance got down on one knee, cupping the dog's face with her hands. She looked into its eyes, unconsciously communicating the sadness and defeat she felt. "I'm sorry, Linux," she said, thinking of how she had failed its master when he needed her the most.

While her family darted a negative mix of glances towards Torrance and the Siberian husky, Bree stared at the two, an inquiry forming in her mind. "Were you in New York last Friday? Central Park?" she asked.

Torrance looked up at her. "Yes," she said, her brows knitting inquisitively. "How did you know?"

Bree looked at Donald then back to Torrance. "I think she's telling the truth," she said.

"What do you mean?" Donald asked.

"Kerry called me Friday afternoon—"

"You've been talking to Kerry Perry?" Chase asked.

"—because she said she saw Leo walking from Central Park on her way to the airport. She told me she saw him walking with a dog," Bree said, talking over Chase. "If Kerry identifies this dog as the same one she saw, it could only mean one thing." She looked at her parents. "Leo's really alive."

Donald stared at her, for the first time doubting his own doubts and considering the tangibility of what Torrance had reported.

"Well, if he is, then where's my son?" Tasha asked desperately.

Torrance stood up slowly. "I don't know," she said. "We ran, before the electromagnetic field was activated. At some point, we were separated, and it was too late before I realized that he was not with me." She swallowed thickly, finally allowing the burden of guilt to come onto her. "I came back to look for him, and I… Linux picked up his scent. There was a drop, and it seems he had fallen down into it."

"He's hurt?" Adam asked, his voice rising. "And you didn't help him?"

"I could not have had, Adam Davenport. Even if I wanted to," Torrance said. She shook her head, remembering the empty spot with the droplets of blood. "We never found him."

"He's still in the mountains? In Virginia?" Donald asked, still mistrustful.

"No. It doesn't seem likely," Torrance said. "I've tried locating him using the phone he currently has, but he's off the grid. Or, at least, he's been taken off it."

"Taken off the grid by whom?"

"Douglas Davenport," Torrance answered. "I'm afraid he's captured him."

* * *

_to be continued._


	23. Twenty-Three

_Thank you so much to AlienGhostWizard14 for your review!_

_Special thanks goes out to LabGirl2001, Lady Cougar-Trombone, 88keys, AllAmericanSlurp and xxWasabiWarriorAlertxx because these people had been completely supportive of me and this story ever since the first chapter, which was published three months ago (can you believe that?). Nearly every chapter, you guys post reviews, and that means a lot to me. Thank you. _

_Everybody, stay warm for the winter! Just remember: bundle up, hot cocoa's your friend - and it's not a bionic chip. ;)_

- Shaine (musicnotes093)

* * *

_Twenty-Three._

Consciousness came back to Leo in short, scattered measures. The first came in through a haze, as if the room was congested with fog, and all he could see were shapes and colors. What he saw that first time was predominantly gray. There hung a huge sphere of light somewhere above him. He remembered it to be quite assaultive, because it spread greedily in his line of vision, but it was not enough to keep him from seeing the two other forms that towered on either side of him.

He couldn't see the one that stood to his right, but he could feel him (or, he wondered, was it _her?_) holding onto his right arm—perhaps to prevent him from struggling away. He saw just a brief glimpse of the one that was on his left. The man seemed to be operating on his arm, but he wasn't too certain. His vision was blocked by something blue, something he had only seen in hospitals before.

The man looked up just once, moved precisely to reposition the plastic tube on his face, before resuming his task.

An odd smell wafted through Leo's nose then—from the plastic tube, he guessed—and it reminded him of how tired he was and how the darkness was more comfortable.

The second time he awakened, the world was still as unclear, but he could sense things much better. He picked up this much: the cold cement under his face, the light sprinkle of dirt that tumbled closer then parted as he breathed in then out, and the three pairs of feet standing a considerable distance away from him.

They were unmoving, and they seemed to stand there as a protection for him.

Against who, he didn't know. There was still that darkness, and he preferred it much more.

When he woke up the next time, he had enough energy to stay lucid for more than a few seconds. He wanted to sleep again, but a part of him urged him to investigate his situation. He was really weak, but he was exhausted with the numerous flashes of awareness that did not make sense. He wanted to sit up, maybe speak, but he found no strength for either. It was as if his body, every nerve, every fiber, had turned into lead, and his brain had no control of them anymore.

So he resorted to the only act he could do: he looked up.

"Hello, Leo," Douglas said, smiling at him.

Leo wanted to move away, but all his body would afford him was a soft sigh.

"Don't force it," Douglas said, walking behind the dark green wall formed by the three teenagers – a boy, a girl, a boy – standing mechanically a few feet away in what looked like their mission suits. "You've just gone through a major surgery. You'll probably feel a little out of it for about another day, but you should get well after that." He scratched his chin pensively. "Don't worry. I, uh, didn't take anything out. I actually put something in."

Leo struggled to do something, _anything_, but he was denied of actions involving his own volition.

"I've gotta say, you surprised me, kid," Douglas continued. "I was _not_ expecting to find _you_ near my old facility. I really thought I had killed you, which, I couldn't figure out how. For a minute, I was convinced that there was something in the tranquilizer that triggered an allergic reaction or something. I thought I've made a massive mistake, and you wouldn't believe how hard that's been for me."

Reluctantly surrendering to the fact that he could not do anything else, Leo turned his eyes back to his step-uncle, hoping that doing so would at least communicate the questions he had in mind. _Where am I?_ he wondered, especially as he caught glimpses of the deathly gray cement walls, above which were web-like protrusions of rusted metals and a few open pipes. There was also a small window to his left, and it offered a preview of something bright and tropical outside.

Douglas saw what the boy was staring at, and it caused a soft grin to pull on his lips. "I can't tell you where we are," he said. "What I can tell you is that the place is beautiful. Not in here, of course, but outside." He shrugged. "It's very quiet and secluded. I like it."

Leo heaved a breath.

"Oh. By the way, you know what really surprised me?" Douglas said. "That you're with someone like Torrance Carlisle. I never pegged her to be the type of person you'd want to be friends with. It's almost as bad as hanging out with Jessi Nash. Torrance's not as loyal, though. Jessi would fight for me to the death. I think that's why I set her as my backup plan, sending her a time-sensitive message to look for me if your family ever catches me, which, thanks to Chase and that cryoblaster, you did."

Douglas nodded. "She's a sweet girl. She sent her boyfriend to break me out of the place Donald held me in. Oh, and uh—" he took out his phone from his pocket then waved it to show Leo, "she sent me a text two days ago about a potential new recruit." He frowned as he scrolled through the message on the screen. "'Potential recruit, sixteen years-old. Male'," he read aloud. "Intermediate to advanced computer skills. Advanced technological skills and capabilities. Offers physical access to Davenport Industries, close enough to get to Donald himself without even being suspected a thing." He smiled at Leo. "I was a little skeptical, because the description fitted only two people I know: Chase and you," he said. "Chase, well, we know – impossible, and you, well, dead. I wondered who this was, so I told her to take you." His brows shot up amusedly. "Seeing that she's now in jail, and you're not in her clutches, I guess she wasn't able to. It seems like Torrance made her choice."

Leo stared at him, quite taken aback by the amount of information he knew about both girls. He refused to believe that Torrance ever knew about Douglas; she wouldn't have betrayed him like this.

This thought suddenly led him to search for Torrance. He began to worry about her safety.

"Oh, you should have seen the things your new friend has done." Douglas chuckled mischievously. "She's a very bad little girl, that one. And I have all the evidences against her." He shook his head. "Yeah, too bad she's turned against me. With the number of cybercrimes under her belt, I can make sure she stays in jail forever."

Leo mustered enough strength to form a wrinkle on his brows. _How would he…?_ he wondered. _Victor Krane's the only person who knows about Torrance's past jobs._

Douglas scoffed when he accurately guessed what he was thinking. A smirk pulled on the side of his mouth. He walked towards Leo, descended down on one knee, and then bent down a little to draw closer to him. "Kid," he said. "I _am_ Victor Krane."

Leo reeled back, and the anxiety he had over Torrance's safety worsened into a fear that hit him full on.

Douglas was walking back to the three when Leo looked up again. "I have to applaud your efforts, though," he said. "You _are_ a brilliant kid. That program you installed on Adam's, Bree's and Chase's chips? It works. I don't know how you did it, but I tried to upload the newest version of the Triton app that I have. Blocked me out. Destroyed it, actually. Thankfully it was just a copy." He smiled. "You've set your siblings free."

A sick sensation began to crystallize at the pit of Leo's stomach as he observed his step-uncle closely, especially the insincere smile on his face.

"The problem is, what you solved is a problem that you should have never even worried about in the first place. Now if you had uploaded your program onto these three—" Douglas placed his hands on the shoulders of the boy on the right, "that would have been a different story. You would have saved your family, not just free them."

Leo turned his attention to the three teenagers, each with differing features, all with similar blank, vapid stares. Strangely, a sense of familiarity lingered at the back of his mind.

Douglas smirked. "Come on," he prompted. "You told me once that your memory's not too bad. Surely you remember them?"

Leo gazed at them one by one, analyzing their features. The boy standing next to Douglas was sandy-haired. He had hazel eyes, from what he could judge at his distance, and a softly pronounced jaw line. The girl in the middle had lengthy, dark brown hair, and soft, dark brown eyes. The boy at the end had curls of dark hair and honey-hued eyes under lightly thicker eyebrows.

Emptiness came first.

Then, as he scanned their features a third time, it clicked.

The sandy-haired waiter at the ball who served the poison-laced strawberry smoothie.

The girl at the parking lot who drove the car towards his direction.

The teenage boy jogging outside the Nash's residence in Chula Vista, the one that encouraged them to go inside the house where Douglas was.

Douglas took in the shadow of recognition on Leo's face with satisfaction. "You see now where you have gone wrong? I hid everything about the plan in plain sight," he said. "Project Deflection has four necessary elements, and it's spelled out in the first four letters of the name. D-E-F-L." He pointed to the three beside him, one by one as he introduced them, starting from the sandy-haired boy. "Darwin. Echo. Fielder…" then, with a point to him, "Leo." He smiled wider and more dangerously. "I told you you were the only one keeping your family alive," he said. "You should have stayed dead."

Everything around Leo seemed to collapse into pieces that only led to a deep, endless haze. The darkness it brought felt foreign and caustic. It laid bare his restlessness, his hopelessness as he lied trapped in his mind and in the unbearable weight of his body. It crumbled every foundation he thought he had made with one swift slap, and it reduced the wall of protection he had worked hard to build into something that was now just imaginary.

As he watched them, he was forced to realize that he had made a mistake.

He had made a terrible, _terrible_ mistake.

_END OF STORY TWO._


End file.
